


Twice Blessed

by jmajerus



Series: Blessed [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Book 2 of 4, Multi, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22668364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmajerus/pseuds/jmajerus
Summary: The Chaos Blessed, Gwendolyn Wood, made it through Port Tythrenn unscathed but her friend and former guard, Damon did not.  Forced to deal with the flirtations of the Crowned Prince, hunting for Damon, and navigating through forgiveness and court politics, Gwen finds herself with new challenges.
Series: Blessed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630759
Comments: 17
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to my readers and Welcome to new readers. I'm so excited to start posting part 2 of this quartet. I love all comments, even if you are telling me you hate the characters (one of my beta readers never made it past this book because she wanted a character dead dead dead). Thank you in advance for being here to read and support this brain child of mine.

There were many noises she was used to in her workshop. The bubbling sound of something boiling in the cauldron. The sound of whistling the tea kettle made when it reached the proper temperature over the fire. The soft clink of glass instruments and bottles. The soft rain-like sound of the sand in her hourglass. The suction sound of uncorking a new jar. The rustling of papers as she flipped through her notes. And the sound of a quill as it scratched out old notes and wrote new ones in. It was peaceful. No talking except the odd muttering to herself. No one asking her if she actually knew what time it was. Nothing. It was peaceful and calming. Or at least it was until she heard a knock on the door.

With a sigh to mourn the loss of her peace and quiet, Gwendolyn Wood, known as Lady Gwen the Chaos Blessed, Variel’s Chosen, stood and left her work to sit on the table while she went to answer the door. No guards were allowed in her workshop. No servants were allowed to enter without her there to open the door. It was her domain. Her haven.

As she turned the door handle she tried to recall when the last meal was delivered. Had it been midday only a few hours before or was that dinner? She couldn’t tell when she locked herself away. Had it been a couple hours or had it been ten? Without windows she often lost track of time.

She opened the door to the hall and smiled at the man there. It wasn’t a servant, but a man from the Royal Guard dressed in his uniform of a black shirt, black breeches, and a purple tunic with the royal insignia of two blades crossed under a crown embroidered in silver and gold. He gave her a smile.

“Lady Gwen,” he gave a short bow. “His Highness, Prince Daric of Moardwyn, Crowned Prince of the Kingdom of Dovania, requests your presence in his chambers.”

The tiniest of smiles twitched on Gwen’s lips. She didn’t know this particular guard but they all knew her by now, at least by sight. If he had known her, he would have just given her the short version. As it was, every time Gwen had to listen to the Crowned Prince’s titles they seemed to be finding longer ways to say them. 

“Did he happen to mention when?” Gwen pressed when the guard continued to stand there. He was young. Perhaps nineteen or so like she was. Likely he was a noble as young men often didn’t have enough merit to join the Royal Guard until they had served for years elsewhere unless they had family history with the Crown.

“I believe he meant now, Lady Gwen,” the guard bowed again. She almost wished Prince Daric had sent one of his guards to come and get her. They didn’t bow and they certainly knew better than to expect her to up and leave at that exact moment. “I am to escort you,” he told her as he offered his arm.

“You may tell his Highness that I will be along when I finish up here,” Gwen informed the young guard. He looked up at her like he was almost considering dragging her rather than return to Prince Daric without her.

“My Lady Gwen, his Royal Highness, Prince Daric of Moardwyn…”

“Crowned Prince of the Kingdom of Dovania,” Gwen finished for him. “Wants me to join him in his chambers. Yes, I understand that. And Daric understands that when he interrupts me in the middle of my work, he has to wait until I am finished. You may tell him that Lady Gwendolyn, Variel’s Chosen, the Chaos Blessed, said she’d be along shortly.” She made a shooing motion with her hands and the guard ran off.

“You’re getting braver with the guards,” someone observed from nearby. She turned to grin at another Blessed she knew well, Prince Keiran of Moardwyn, Alonox’s Chosen, and the Dream Blessed. His presence was one of the few allowed into her workshop. The only other person she gave expressed permission to was Lord Gavril, Solreth’s Chosen, and the Sun Blessed. There was also the small matter of Edith, Voleus’ Chosen, and the Trickster Blessed who used her thief skills to break in every so often to simply leave gifts behind, but Gwen had never exactly given permission for her to come and likely Edith didn’t want it.

“I wish Daric would stop sending new guards. They always go through the same social dance and I’m getting sick of stepping to it,” Gwen sighed as Keiran approached.

“He’ll stop sending new guards when you get your own squad. Then he’ll use your men. As it is, I think he’s trying to gauge how well they react to you when you send them running back to him.” Keiran shrugged. He was truly the Dream Blessed with his midnight blue, almost black eyes, dark hair, and light colored skin. In his early twenties he was easily the oldest of the Blessed and as one of the Princes of Dovania, one of the most recognized of the Blessed.

“I’ve done fine without a guard, thank you. I don’t believe I need one here at all. Not with the way that story spread once we came home from Port Tythrenn.” Gwen sighed and led Keiran into her workshop, closing the door behind him. She returned to her cauldron where she had a special balm brewing.

They had returned from Port Tythrenn only a month before but in that time the story that she had faced down Variel in all of her wrath to protect the spectators of the opening of the Temple of Solreth from a terrible chaotic death had spread across the entire palace. It had made everyone at the palace aware of who she was and what she was. It meant servants and guards alike either stared at her in awe or backed away from her when she turned her blue-gray gaze at them. The only thing that would make them face her for so long was Prince Daric ordering them to retrieve her. Each new one he sent always tried to insist until she started listing off her own titles in response.

“And what would Damon say to that?” She heard Keiran’s voice grow quiet as she froze. Damon. When she had first come to the palace five months before, she had been placed in the care of Sergeant Damon, Prince Daric’s personal friend and the Sergeant of the Crowned Prince’s Guard. It had been a point of contention at first where Damon had taken out his frustration of being placed in charge of her on her. When he became aware of his abuse of her, he had actually become a good guard. When she had arrived in Port Tythrenn to help open the Temple of Solreth to an attack that had left her unconscious and bleeding, he had offered himself up as her companion and had become a good friend.

After her oh so heroic efforts of battling Variel she had been left unconscious from the effort and he had taken that moment to send her away before the High Priest of Solreth could convince someone that she deserved to be executed for the crime of being Variel’s Chosen. He was to follow along with Prince Daric and the other Blessed a week later but he never arrived in the capital of Oleryn because he had gone missing in Port Tythrenn the day they were supposed to leave. Gwen and many others firmly believed he had gone missing due to foul play. 

Those that knew her well enough knew even mentioning his name caused her heart to clench. She firmly believed that the High Priest of Solreth in Port Tythrenn had had him arrested in the middle of the night because he had protected her by sending her away. While many others tried to assure her that it wasn’t her fault, she still held the firm belief that he would have arrived safely back at the palace if it hadn’t been for his connection to her. It was also her driving factor in wanting to find him and make things right.

“Damon would say that you’re annoying for trying to guess at what he would say,” Gwen said finally. “Any idea what Daric wants this time? I’m going to start getting annoyed if it’s another ‘I just wanted to see your beautiful face’ meetings.”

Over the last month Prince Daric, or Daric as she had permission to call him, had gone for easily forgetting her, to sending someone for her at least once every other day to request her presence for something. Sometimes it was for leads on where Damon might be. Other times it was simply to flirt with her. She preferred the productive meetings to him trying to compliment her.

“You stump him that way. Every other lady falls over herself to get that kind of attention from him. But you, you simply get annoyed. I like it,” Keiran grinned and sat himself at her worktable. “What can I do to help speed things along?”

“Is this an important meeting then?” She asked realizing that Keiran might have come down knowing she would send the guard away without a thought to the true nature of the meeting.

“All I know is Daric would prefer you there soon. I’m sure he would have preferred to see you take the suggestion of being escorted by a guard for once too.” Keiran chuckled. “He has hopes that you’ll become a docile lady at some point. Little does he realize the more comfortable you get here, the more of an independent streak you seem to show. So what am I doing?”

“Label those jars please,” Gwen nodded to the stone jars in front of him with blank labels. “It should read Mending Balm.”

“Mending Balm… like for wounds?” Keiran was already helping himself to her writing kit.

“Wounds, scars, blemishes,” she shrugged.

“Does it work on your scars?” He nodded to her covered wrists.

At the age of fourteen Gwen had found herself imprisoned at the infamous Faserlaeh, the mages top security prison. It was the place mages that committed completely unforgiveable acts of murder and treason went to suffer until their deaths. The average life expectancy of someone in Faserlaeh was less than a year. Thanks to her Blessing, she had lasted four before King Alaric had discovered her existence and had pardoned her. Her time in the prison had left scars all over her body but the most visible and telling ones were on her wrists from the too tight shackles that had been left on her for all four years. She hid them from the world with the help of bracelets.

“Nothing works on these,” she nodded to her wrists. “So Daric sent you along to speed up the process?”

“No. I happened to have been around the area when he was asking for you and he seemed to stress to that poor guard you sent scuttling away that you needed to be brought,” Keiran shrugged.

“Do you think he knows where Damon is?” Gwen asked quietly. She wanted that to be the answer every time he asked for her, but it was never the answer she received.

“Honestly, Gwen,” Keiran set down his quill and looked at her. “I don’t think he’s made much progress on that front. We can’t get anyone in the Tythrenn Watch or anyone at the Temple of Solreth to budge on if they had anything to do with it.”

“Did you ask the dock workers at the harbor, or the guards at the roads leaving the city like I suggested?” Gwen felt her heart sinking.

“Yes, and reports came back that no one saw him. It took us months to locate you after we heard the rumors. Give us a little time,” Keiran gripped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more about the subject but she couldn’t get herself to stop thinking about it, so she said nothing else to Keiran as they worked. 

Once her balm was ready to be transferred to the jars, she ladled it out and had Keiran help her seal jars before she straightened her tunic, patted her breeches free of dust, and checked to make sure her hair was in order. She might be someone willing to tell Daric he could wait for her, but she wasn’t going to show up looking disheveled. When she was sure she at least didn’t look like she had been working since the middle of the night, she let Keiran escort her up to the Royal Wing of the palace.

As they walked the now familiar path, Gwen noted Keiran’s quarters as they passed them. Like every Blessed his door lacked a name plate but was carved with the symbol of his Blessing. Keiran’s door was carved with stars, the symbol of the God of Dreams, Alonox. The door to Gwen’s living quarters was carved with eight arrows arranged in a circle with their tails together and their heads pointing out with a spiral spinning through it. It marked her as Chaos Blessed with the Goddess of Chaos, Variel’s symbol.

Two doors down of Keiran’s they stopped to see two young men in Royal Guard uniforms standing at attention outside of the door.

“You know, I swear there are new men every time,” Gwen whispered to Keiran.

“You’re right. Daric’s testing them out. It’s a condition of their hiring into the Royal Guard at this rate,” Keiran admitted.

Normally, Daric had a very elite squad of Royal Guard that was charged with his protection, but since Damon had gone missing, he had discharged his men to go search for their beloved Sergeant. It meant that Daric was constantly trying out new guards but she wasn’t sure what it actually accomplished. Gwen wished Daric would think to send her to go look, but she wasn’t allowed to go back to Port Tythrenn where the High Priest wanted her dead.

The men opened the door and announced her, using her full set of titles as she walked in. She rolled her eyes. She had trained the men that had stood out there two days before to call her by the short ‘Lady Gwen’ within seconds.

“Daric, I’m getting a little tired of having to train new guards every other day to address me properly,” Gwen informed the Crowned Prince as she let go of Keiran’s arm to enter his sitting room.

The Crowned Prince grinned but didn’t look at her. He was truly a handsome man who took after his father’s coloring. His hair was reddish-gold and left short enough that he didn’t have to tie it back on the practice courts. His eyes when he did turn them toward her were a light crystal blue. He was a powerful man in stature alone having spent long hours of his time on the practice courts. He could charm almost any man or woman into doing what he wanted. She had heard Keiran explain that he had been trained to it from a very young age. Manipulation was a King’s best friend.

“Only you find respect improper, Lady Gwen,” Daric commented. She frowned immediately. Just like she was able to forgo his title, he normally left hers for times he wanted to press her title on someone new. 

Indeed there was someone sitting in the chair closest to her with his back to her. Though he was sitting, she could see he was likely just over six feet tall and was fairly muscular marking him as another man that saw time in the practice courts. His hair was chestnut brown, a shade or two lighter than her own hair color and he wore the purple tunic of the Royal Guard with the purple armband showing a silver dot. It was the mark of Sergeant.

“I wish you would stop sending them back without you,” Daric turned his full gaze on her. “What if I’m summoning you for something important?”

“Then stop summoning me to flirt and I’ll start considering your summons more important. As it is, if it were important enough, you would send someone I knew. You would also give me advance notice so I could make sure to be on time.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Well, come take a seat,” he patted the space next to him. “Keiran, you might as well too since you decided to join her.”

“Is this actually important?” Gwen asked finally. She really didn’t want to sit and be introduced to another courtier he thought she must know.

“It is,” Daric sighed.

“Is it about Damon?” She dared to ask.

“In a sense,” Daric patted the seat again. 

She sat, but not in the seat he directed to her. Immediately her eyes went to the man in the chair across from Daric and she narrowed her eyes. The man looked back at her with the same blue eyes her father had had. The same slightly arched nose he father had had. The same wide mouth her father had had. It was her eldest brother Elden sitting in Daric’s chambers.

She looked to Keiran and saw he was looking away from her. He had known what he was walking her into. Daric had likely sent him to speed things along and he had lied to her. Keiran always joined meetings where Daric thought he would need his brother to smooth things over with her.

“What does this have to do with Damon?” She asked. Elden had been a sergeant in the Tythrenn Watch, in the Temple District. Perhaps he knew something about Damon’s disappearance. She’d hear them out long enough for that.

“Nothing about finding him,” Daric clarified. “But we have to talk about replacing him, for you.”

Gwen looked between Daric and Elden once again. Her brother shifted ever so slightly under her gaze and she looked to the sergeant’s armband once more. She might have been born a peasant but she was educated enough to start to connect the pattern here.

“No,” she looked to Daric. “The answer is no. No. No. No. No. NO. NO!” She stood. 

“Gwen, please, just hear me out a moment,” Daric stood as well. “If we find Damon, he’ll return to my guard detail. You need a new sergeant.”

“Not him. He’ll turn me in. He’ll hand me over to the High Priest,” Gwen backed away from Daric. Not only was he turning her over to her brother, he had admitted there was a chance Damon wasn’t returning.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter, Gwen. This meeting was a courtesy to inform you what to expect when you return to your rooms tonight. The men you have been meeting all this past week, the ones outside the door now, they are yours. And they will be under Sergeant Elden’s leadership.” Daric took a step towards her.

Gwen took another step back, and another. She would not agree to this. She had defied Daric before and she’d do it again.

“No.” She was at the door. “Not him.”

Daric straightened and glared at her. “You don’t have a choice. This is a royal command, Gwen.” 

Something to Gwen’s left shattered. She had barely felt the seed of power leave her body but she knew it was something she had done. Daric grimaced and his features softened.

“Let’s talk about this, please, have a seat and we can talk through your concerns,” he gestured to the chair she had occupied for only a few seconds.

“My answer is no,” she turned and threw the door open startling the guards on the other side. She waited until she had walked well out of sight of Daric’s door and then took off at a run. She knew they could and would easily find her but she needed a few more moments alone. There were only two places in the palace she could call hers. One was her suite of rooms that she rarely inhabited anymore. The other was her workshop. She returned there and slammed the door before locking it tight.

She sat at her worktable for only a few moments before she had an idea of how to gain just a little more time without being found. She doused the lights in her workshop and went to the storage closet. The closet held shelves on two sides that were already full of jars, vials, and bottles. A cot with a pillow and blanket were tucked against the back wall. She closed herself in the closet and took the blanket to stuff around the base of the door. When she was sure that no light would escape under the door, she touched one of the small mage lights she used to light the closet when she needed to look around. It was only powerful enough to see a couple feet in front of her. She settled against her corner and let thoughts consume her.

When she had been ten she had been Blessed by the Goddess Variel in the city of Port Tythrenn. Her oldest brother Elden had been her biggest hero and he had found her right after. She had thought he was there to save her because Variel’s Blessing was one of the most terrifying and painful moments of her life, but he had taken her and had abandoned her at the Temple of Solreth along with her father and another brother named Tomas. The High Priest of the Temple of Solreth treated her like a criminal, enslaved her, kept her locked in a closet at night, and beat her often. Her family ignored her for four years while she suffered at the hands of the High Priest.

Then one night, after four years, the High Priest had forgotten to lock her closet door and she had gone to his office. She had found letters that ultimately stated her father had died. The High Priest had discovered her there and had tried to beat her. Lost in rage and grief she had turned the power that Variel had Blessed her with against the Temple of Solreth and it had burned to the ground. When she had realized the enormity of what she had done, she had run to the Temple of Variel and had hidden there.

Elden had come for her there and had played on her naïve hope that her family had wanted her and had loved her still. He had called her his baby sister. He had promised he’d take her to his home and he’d take care of her. And when she had walked out to meet him, he placed the shackles he was holding on her and brought her back before the High Priest to be sentenced. Then he had personally loaded her on the ship to Faserlaeh.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a knock on the door to her workshop.

“Gwen, it’s Keiran, we need to talk,” she heard Keiran call through the door. “Please let me in.” She waited in silence. After a long moment she heard him again. “I know you’re in there. You never go anywhere else. We’re coming in.”

She bit her lip as she thought over the ‘we’ he was talking about. He could have brought Daric with him, but he also could have brought Elden. She had nothing to say to any of them now. Keiran had led her into that trap knowing exactly how she felt about any of her family. Daric had tried to royally order her to accept her brother as the man in charge of her safety. And Elden, she had nothing more to say to him.

The door opened and she heard a curse.

“She’s not in her rooms and she’s not here,” Keiran sighed. “I told you not to go all Crowned Prince on her. She doesn’t respond well to that at all.”

“This is her workshop anyway. She spends most of her free time here, playing at being an alchemist,” Daric explained to someone. She had a sinking feeling he was teaching Elden how to find her.

“She doesn’t allow guards in her workshop,” Keiran commented.

“She allowed Damon,” Daric snapped.

“She trusted Damon,” Keiran sighed. “She’s never going to trust me again after that meeting.”

“Do things tend to explode often when she’s upset?” She heard Elden ask.

“No, well, yes, it happens more often now anyway. After she held Variel back from destroying Port Tythrenn her power has been far less buried. We try to avoid pushing her too much,” she heard the edge in his voice that told her he was directing that comment at Daric.

“You don’t need to rub it in. Gwen does that well enough without trying,” Daric sighed. “Well, she’s not here. Let’s go see if anyone saw her leave the palace grounds.” She heard shuffling out of her workshop and the door close, but still she waited in the dark until she was sure she didn’t hear the rustle of cloth, the scuff of a boot, or another person breathing in the dark.

When she judged the space to be clear, she crept from her hiding place and shifted her focus back to her work. If anything was going to calm her mind and thus her power, it was the all-consuming work she did in her workshop creating mostly balms and tinctures. She knew she would work through dinner and likely well into the night. And perhaps, if she grew tired enough to sleep, she would pull out the cot and refuse to return to her rooms altogether.

They’d find her eventually, and when they did she’d have to hear them out. Her answer was still ‘no’. There was nothing Elden could say, nothing Daric or Keiran could say, to make her accept him in Damon’s place.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of a key scraping against the metal of her workshop lock made her wake from her short nap. She hadn’t even bothered with the cot but had worked right up until she had fallen asleep at her worktable. The tumbler clicked and she heard the door swing open. She wasn’t ready for this conversation though she was sure she had managed to avoid it for at least the whole night. The door closed again. Even without hearing voices she knew there were two people in her workshop.

“Come on Sweet, you need to sleep in your bed for once.” The voice that greeted her ears wasn’t Keiran’s, or Daric’s, or even Elden’s. The sunshine filled voice belonged to Gavril, Solreth’s Chosen and the closest thing she knew to a true brother. She turned to face him and found his companion was his sergeant and secret sweetheart, Nic. Both were watching her with some concern.

“Daric is panicking that you decided against the hospitality of the palace and have run away,” Nic told her quietly. “He thought you’d be back in your rooms this morning when breakfast arrived but you weren’t.”

“Did he mention why?” Gwen looked to Gavril and saw him shake his head.

“He only said he might have angered you,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “In Daric’s language that means he did anger you, but he’s hoping you’ll forget about it by the time you see his handsome face next.”

“How did they not realize you were in your workshop?” Nic asked looking around. “It’s your sanctuary and everyone in the Royal Guard knows it.”

“They didn’t find me the first time they checked and never came back to check again,” Gwen shrugged.

“You hid from them,” Gavril chuckled. “So tell me what Daric did now and I’ll decide if I want to tell him I know you’re still on the palace grounds or not.”

Gwen rolled her eyes at Gavril. He had proven it was her best interests he had in mind at all times. If he thought she was in the wrong, he’d tell her. So far, the only wrong he seemed to be correct about was that Damon had been a good person in the end. If he decided to turn her over to Daric, he would at least give her a good reason.

“Daric has decided on a new guard detail for me. All new recruits under the orders of a new sergeant.” She glanced at Nic to see if he knew who she was speaking of. There was nothing in his features to indicate he knew where this story was going. “He hired Elden, my brother, to be my sergeant. He ordered me to accept it. He called it a curtesy for letting me know.”

“You have to be kidding. Daric might be absent minded from time to time but he wouldn’t force you into that situation,” Gavril frowned. While Gwen knew Gavril wasn’t fully aware of the details of Elden’s betrayal, he at least knew that Elden had abandoned her to the Temple of Solreth after her Blessing. That alone was enough for him to dislike the man.

“I’m not kidding,” she sighed and rubbed at her temples. “I wish Damon was here to talk some sense into him.”

“We all wish Damon was here,” Gavril’s voice softened even more. “But I don’t think it would stop Daric from doing stupid things. Come, let’s go face the Crowned Prince while he’s still worried about you enough that he might make some concessions.” Gavril reached down and lifted her up off her of stool easily before he set her on her feet. “Then we’ll get you something to eat and you should try and sleep in your bed.”

“But I got a nice nap in,” Gwen commented as he steered her out of the door with Nic on her other side.

“Sleeping at your worktable does not call for the words ‘nice nap’,” Nic informed her.

They didn’t go to the Royal Wing like she thought they would but instead the two men steered her right to her very own door. Nic didn’t bother with a key as he pushed the door open, which told her that there was certainly someone inside.

“Didn’t we already tell you she isn’t here?” She heard Daric snap from inside.

“You did, Your Highness,” Nic gave a slight bow while blocking the door and then he stepped inside and let Gavril steer her in.

Her sitting room was the first room she entered in the suite of rooms provided by King Alaric for her status as Blessed. It doubled as her dining room when she decided to eat in her rooms. The table in one half of the room easily seated twelve though often it only held three or four people. Beyond the sitting room was a large bedroom with a four poster bed she couldn’t bring herself to like, her desk, vanity, and bookshelf. The bedroom had her dressing room, privy, and a servant quarters attached. She had moved herself in to the servant quarters the first night in her room and had inquired multiple times about having the bed removed in the main bedroom.

But now her sitting room was as far as she was going to get. Daric was pacing over by her dining table. Keiran was sitting in one of the armchairs with his head in his hands. Two men she barely recognized from the previous week of Royal Guards were on either side of the door. And Elden, he sat with his hands folded staring at the floor. Keiran was the first to look up at them and realize she stood between Nic and Gavril.

“You found her!” He jumped to his feet as Daric turned to stare.

“We did. She told us the most amazing story that I just needed to have clarified. We agreed when she first came to the palace that Gwen needed stability, did we not?” Gavril directed his question to Keiran. He waited for Keiran to agree before he forged on. “So why, in Solreth’s name, would you allow someone near her who proved he could and would abandon her when she needed him the most?” His eyes landed on Elden who refused to look up from the floor.

“Not only that,” Gwen found her voice had grown soft. Elden looked up at her then and she met his eyes. “But you deceived me. You lied to me, played on my love for you, and then you sent me to die.”

“I have nothing to say that will explain away my actions properly simply because I was an idiot and let the High Priest and the beliefs in Port Tythrenn sway me. I was wrong. I’ve been aware of that for quite some time, since before you came to Port Tythrenn and informed me of what you went through in so many cryptic words.” He kept his hands folded and she wondered if perhaps he was holding something.

“We are aware of what he did, Gwen,” Keiran sighed. “Will you hear me out? You know I wouldn’t agree to this if I didn’t think it was good for you.”

“You lied to me too,” Gwen reminded him. “You knew what was going on yesterday when you came to get me.”

“I know,” Keiran hung his head.

“Gwen, it’s already done. You can’t turn this down,” Daric tried.

“How is it that you thought this was a good idea? I thought after Ambrose and the incident with Hearst that you would at least pay attention to who you were putting on her guard detail,” Gavril growled at Daric.

Gwen fought the urge to jump in. Of course Gavril would bring up the last time Daric had assigned her new guards. The sergeant had ignored her and ultimately she had been assigned one of the men that had tortured her in Faserlaeh. He had taken the first opportunity to be alone with her in Port Tythrenn and had carved her prison number into her chest, and had intended to do worse, but she had managed to hide under the bed where he couldn’t fit or reach. 

“I apologized for that,” Daric started.

“You did not,” Gwen interrupted before he got far. “You said you may have to apologize and then informed me I was to follow you around Port Tythrenn for the remainder of the trip.”

“Fine, I apologize for not paying better mind to who I was putting on your guard detail then. But this is different.” Daric sighed and came forward to take her hands. “Let’s go talk. Just me and you.” He gave her hands a squeeze.

“If this conversation includes the words ‘royal order’, ‘royal command’, or ‘because I said so’, I’m going to have to pass,” she withdrew her hands from his.

“I promise, we’ll discuss this without orders or commands,” he promised. “Let’s go back to your room for some privacy.” 

He stepped out of her way and prompted her to lead him to the servant quarters. The moment the door was closed behind him, Daric took her hands in his again and held them tight.

“I usually pride myself on always knowing the right thing to say at the right time for every person I cross. I don’t normally find myself in these situations, so it’s hard for me,” he sighed. “I never seem to be able to say the right thing to you.”

He looked up and around and she saw his eyes linger on the single hard cot that she had kept in the room and her travel trunk. He let go of her hands and walked over to the trunk to flip open the lid. After a moment he closed it again and looked around.

“What are you looking for?” Gwen asked as he knelt to look under the bed.

“Your blanket. The green one you insisted on bringing to Port Tythrenn. Damon made sure he sent you back with it. He carried you down to the ship wrapped in it.” He kept digging under the bed while Gwen thought.

The blanket in question was a soft green comforter that Damon had insisted she take to bed when she had been injured trying to control a cyclone of deadly Godsfyre that she had produced with her power. After that night it had just become the blanket she liked to use. It was news to her that Damon had wrapped her in it when he had sent her away from Port Tythrenn to protect her from execution. It was news to her that he had carried her down to the ship himself. Despite the new information, she didn’t quite understand why Daric was invested in finding that blanket right now.

“Why?” She managed to ask finally.

“Was it left on the ship when you arrived home? I can see if I can track it down. Is that why you aren’t sleeping at night?” Daric stood and came to reclaim her hands.

“It’s not missing. It’s just not in this room,” Gwen assured him before he became side tracked by her blanket and went searching for it.

“Oh.” He raised her hands to his lips. “I need to apologize to you properly for everything I’ve failed to do properly with you. I did fail you. I didn’t assign a proper guard for you. I apologize. But I haven’t failed you here.” She looked up at him and found his eyes on hers. “Elden came to the palace two weeks ago to inquire about a position guarding you. I practically interrogated him on his motives and Keiran spent three days threatening him on your behalf. Yet he still wanted that position. So I asked Paxton to speak to him.”

Gwen frowned. Paxton was Orvanus’ Chosen, the Death Blessed. She had little to do with him but she did know his power granted him the ability to see what people hid. It was one of the reason’s Edith loved him. She could make a game of him finding new things about her. If Paxton had looked at Elden and had found nothing to worry him, then perhaps Elden wasn’t there to harm her. But she still didn’t trust him as the man in charge of her guard.

“Just give him a chance,” Daric sighed. “Give him two weeks and I’ll spend some time looking for someone else.”

“You’re lying,” Gwen couldn’t help but smile. “You aren’t going to search for someone else.”

“You’re right,” he grinned and brought her hands back up to his lips. “Two weeks. If you’re still unsure of his motives we’ll talk again. Until then, he’s your Sergeant and you’ll have to discuss your safety with him.” He opened the door and led her back out towards the sitting room. “On a different note, I’d like to invite you to dine with me tonight.”

“Is this one of the flirting social calls you keep insisting on?” She demanded as they entered the sitting room.

“Yes. Dinner in my chambers, tonight,” he grinned at her. “You can have your guards escort you properly.” He took her hand to kiss it again and then left her chambers altogether.

“I hope he trips and falls in front of his courtiers,” Gwen told Gavril.

“I doubt he will. I’ve been wishing that for years,” Keiran sighed. “I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you what was coming. I’m sorry that I didn’t prepare you at all. On the plus side, Daric had a shattered mirror you electrocuted with lightning to remind him he can’t royally command you to do anything.”

“Lightning,” Gwen repeated.

“Yes, lightning,” Keiran glanced around at Gavril, Nic, and Elden still sitting in the room watching. “We might need to try and practice control again. You’re power has been leaking out more and more.”

“I promised Damon I wouldn’t do something so dangerous without him around,” Gwen tried.

“Elden should be up to the task,” Keiran looked to the man in question. “Aren’t you Elden? And Gavril? You know you’re pretty much the only one that can help her.”

“I might be Godsfyre proof but we’ve learned I’m not wind proof or lightning proof,” Gavril looked to Gwen. “All I can seem to do is remind her to calm down.”

“We’ll think of something,” Keiran sighed. “I am sorry, Gwen. Do you want me to happen to interrupt Daric’s attempts to flirt with you tonight? I can invite myself to dinner.”

“I’ll consider it as part of your apology,” Gwen grinned at him. She really disliked when Daric tried to flirt with her. It was often uncomfortable and always one sided. But there was always a chance she’d be able to turn those sorts of socializations into Daric giving her information about the search for Damon. And with Keiran there she’d be able to avoid most of the flirting simply with his brother’s antics.

“Good, count me in.” He came forward and embraced her. “You need to sleep. I can find a draught if you really need it.”

“You could use your power and we can see if perhaps I discover anything new about Damon,” she retorted. It was a battle she someday hoped to win. 

With the God of Dreams, Imagination, and Night as his patron, Keiran had the power to grant sleep as well as to place thoughts in people’s minds. He hated doing both, but he had granted Gwen sleep when she had been in need of rest on the way home from Port Tythrenn under healer’s orders. Locked in his sleep she had dreamed what she believed were true dreams. She had watched Damon’s abduction take place on the night he had gone missing and then had watched Daric discover he was gone and order a search. She had asked multiple times for Keiran to make her sleep so she could have a chance at being helpful in finding Damon but Keiran simply refused. He didn’t want to control her that way. Instead he preferred to give her sleeping draughts.

“There is no guarantee you’ll see him,” Keiran sighed. “If part of my power does include these true dreams, I won’t have you locked in watching something that leaves you with nightmares.” He embraced her again. “I’ll come back with a sleeping draught.”

“Forget it, if I really need it, I have some,” she waved him off. “I expect you there tonight.” 

Keiran left then and she found herself facing Gavril, Nic, and Elden as well as her two door guards. Gavril was still frowning at Elden and she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t thrilled with his presence either.

“Food and bed,” Gavril turned to look at her. “Brother’s orders.” At that she saw Elden look up at Gavril but say nothing. A new thought dawned on Gwen. Perhaps Gavril was afraid Elden would take his role in her life as her older brother, pushing Gavril out. But she would never forget the difference between the two men. When she had needed her brother he had abandoned her. When she had tried to push Gavril away with the truth of burning down the Temple of Solreth, he had crawled into bed with her and had held her and kept her company all night. No one would ever take his place with her.

“Right,” she smiled at him. “Except I don’t see anything here to eat so I’ll have to go bother someone in the kitchens.”

“I sent a servant to make the request,” Gavril stood to face her. “Do you want me to stay? I won’t let this sorry excuse for a man push you around.”

“And then who would go whip the Royal Guard into shape on the practice courts?” Gwen teased. The more passive part of Gavril’s power granted from his Blessing was simply that he mastered any weapon he picked up. Only one person could still consistently beat Solreth’s Chosen and that was Damon and only in his swordsmanship.

“You’ll come find me if you need me?” He asked finally.

“I wouldn’t go to anyone else,” she assured him.

“Food and then bed,” he said once more before he turned and left.

“That was friendly,” Elden observed well after the door was closed.

“He’s my brother,” Gwen shrugged.

“I hope one day that you’ll acknowledge that I am also your brother still,” he stood to face her. “I thought you might want this,” he held out his hand and opened it to reveal a piece of pink granite no longer than her little finger with what appeared to be a head of an arrow pressed into it. It was set on a thin silver chain.

“What is it?” Gwen stared at the jagged edges of the granite.

“It’s a piece from Variel’s Temple. I went up to the temple that night to steal a piece before it was cleaned up. I think it’s from the altar,” he pointed to the arrowhead carved into the stone.

“I don’t trust you as the head of my guard,” she informed him as he pressed the necklace into her hands.

“I don’t expect you to. From what I’ve heard around the barracks, no one would ever add up to Sergeant Damon for you.” She heard a bit of teasing in his voice and bristled. She didn’t like what he was indicating and she certainly didn’t like that he felt he could tease her.

“Not that I expect you to care,” she sighed and looked to the two men at the door that appeared to be concealing their own smiles. She would have to put a stop to this sort of thing before it got out of hand. There would be no rumors allowed of inappropriate feelings for her former guard. Damon wouldn’t stand for that sort of disrespect on his name. The first rule he had given her was that she was not allowed to have a relationship with any of her guards. “Sergeant Damon put my safety ahead of what I had done and what I was. Even if he did hate me for what I had done, he didn’t condemn me to death. He didn’t even treat me like he wished I was condemned for death. So for that, I trust him. It’s something he’s proven he could do that you couldn’t.” She turned back to Elden to see him cringing as well as the guards at the door looking properly somber now.

Before Elden could formulate some sort of response the door opened to admit the servant with the food Gavril had asked to be brought for her. Elden and the other guards stayed silent while she ate. Once she was done eating, she went to bath in her privy, find a decent change of clothes for the evening, and then headed for the door with every intent to leave. Elden’s hand on her arm stopped her before he snatched his hand back.

“You’re supposed to rest,” he gave a nod back towards the bedroom.

“What does it matter to you what I do?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m charged with your safety. Physical, mental, and emotional safety. That means I can’t let you continue to miss rest.” He grimaced as if he were tasting something terrible, “and your… your brother, Gavril, said you should.”

“I do not require much sleep,” she told him finally. “The few hours I got at my worktable this morning were enough to sustain me for the rest of the day should I choose.”

“Is that part of your Blessing?” One of the other guards asked.

“No, it was a requirement of survival,” she told the guard and went out of the door. Elden followed her.

“What do you mean ‘a requirement of survival’?” He asked when they were a little ways away from her door.

“The High Priest often made me work on little rest, or what rest I could get locked in a closet. And don’t you know, one of the many things they do to break prisoners at Faserlaeh is to only allow them an hour or two of rest on long work days and beatings? Those that don’t wake up on time are beaten to death.” She didn’t bother looking at his face. She had probably pressed too far there but she wasn’t about to let him forget what he had done to her. “So I don’t require much sleep anymore.”

She didn’t want to admit that she had nightmares now when she did sleep. She had vivid nightmares of Variel destroying all of Port Tythrenn because she hadn’t held on long enough. She had vivid nightmares of the Temple of Variel collapsing inward and the terrible thousand voiced scream that belonged to Variel herself. She had nightmares about Damon’s abduction and the baton she had witnessed coming down on his head. She had nightmares about the guard that had carved her prison number into her chest. And every now and then, she had a nightmare about screaming for her brothers and her father not to abandon her at the Temple of Solreth. Ever since Port Tythrenn, she had had nightmares. She didn’t like sleep, and it didn’t like her it seemed.

She turned to continue her walk but Elden’s hand found her arm again.

“You’re a lady now and as a lady you should be escorted properly,” he tried.

“Don’t worry about me. You haven’t worried for nine years, so there’s no need to start now,” she pulled her arm from under his hand and walked away. After a long moment she heard his footsteps following but he didn’t try and stop her again until they reached her workshop.

“I have worried about you, Gwen. I’ve worried about you every day for your entire life,” he tried as she put the key in her lock.

“You ignored me for over four years and then you sent me to die,” she reminded him. She opened the door, slipped inside and closed it again before he could come in behind her. When the door was locked, she let her shaking legs give out from under her and she slid down the length of the thick wooden door. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them.

Elden had been her hero. The brother she loved more than anything. And he had abandoned her. Despite all of that, part of her wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he had cared about her. But she couldn’t forgive the pain of the last nine years. She wasn’t his baby sister anymore. He had made sure of that. It had been hard to face him. It would be hard to face him again, and again, and again like she would have to do now that he was in charge of her guard detail. 

Her lips trembled against her knees. If anyone could push her to cry, it was Elden. He was probably listening outside of the door. She didn’t want to give him to satisfaction of hearing her cry over him. He’d probably think he still meant something to her. And worse, he’d be right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do I know? Managed to get one up despite not thinking I'd have time today!

She was standing outside of the door to her chambers but she couldn’t remember getting there. Perhaps she was too sleep deprived if she didn’t remember walking there. She had been avoiding sleep more and more. Her hand found the door handle and she turned it to push the door open.

Inside her eyes fell on a man with his back to her. She knew his broad shouldered muscular build on sight. His dark hair was a little longer than the scant two inches he normally had it trimmed down to. His skin had lost a little of its color attesting to less time in the sun. He turned and she could see the hard line of his jaw and the thin line his month made when he was frustrated. But when she saw his silvery green eyes meet hers and his lips curled into a smile, she was still too stunned to move. Damon was home.

A knock on the door made Gwen wake from her nap and from the first good dream she had had in over a month. She knew it was too good to be true. Damon wouldn’t just come home. None of his men had reported learning anything. None of his men would go in for a rescue without appealing to Daric first and Daric wouldn’t be able to keep that secret from her. The knock came again.

She threw off her blanket and sat up on the cot she had placed on the floor in front of her worktable. The knocking became more persistent and she fought back a growl. Why did someone have to wake her up when this promised to be the easiest sleep she had had in a long time?

Gwen opened the door just enough to see Elden standing on the other side but not enough for him to see the cot on the floor. Since had had become the Sergeant of her guard the week before, he had made a point to start trying to take care of her. She ignored his attempts but she could feel his frustration growing with each ignored attempt.

“Gwen, it’s after midnight. It’s time to be done in your workshop and go to bed,” he pressed.

“Go away, Elden.” She made to close the door but he threw an arm against it to hold it open.

“You look exhausted. It is well past time for you to get a few hours of sleep. Don’t make me go get Prince Keiran and have him drug you with a draught,” Elden growled. “Or would you prefer I go wake Gavril and have him tell you the same thing, since you listen to him better than your own brother.”

“You are not my brother anymore,” she shoved against the door to try and close it but her small amount of strength she had gained back was nothing compared to Elden’s. She had not trained in practice courts for years and he had not had the disadvantage of being on the point of starvation for years. In response to her attempt to close the door, Elden pushed it open further until his eyes fell on the cot on the floor.

“You’re sleeping here,” his voice softened.

“Go away, Elden,” she turned to fold up her blanket and pick up her cot. There would be no returning to sleep. No recapturing any good dreams. Elden tended to bring the nightmares with him.

“Why?” He asked finally.

“Because I don’t allow guards in my workshop,” she turned to glare at him.

“I mean, why are you sleeping here?” He clarified.

“Because I don’t allow guards in my workshop,” she snapped. “Go away, Elden.”

“You sleep here because your guards aren’t allowed here?” He pressed.

“I sleep here because you aren’t allowed in here!” She was tired. Tired of the stress of dealing with Elden. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of no information about Damon. Tired of Daric’s now daily attempts to lure her out to flirt with her. She just wanted to be left alone for a little while where she could find some sort of peace.

The truth was she couldn’t even get work done in her workshop anymore. Elden was constantly at the door, knocking to check in on her. His presence always set her mind racing towards conflicting emotions of love for him and the pain of what he had done to her. That always caused her power to react and she had to set all of her focus on pushing it back. By the time she was done there, someone else would come to check on her, and stay and chat. Daric would send for her. She’d go, he’d flirt, she’d come back and Elden would come and check on her again. It was taking its toll on her patience for interruptions.

She felt Elden’s arms wrap around her waist and suddenly she was over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” She demanded. He said nothing to her as he stepped out of her workshop, closed the door, and carried her off down the hall. She pounded on his back. She yelled at him. She twisted against his hold trying to get him to set her down. Her power was fighting her control. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he wouldn’t set her down.

“I’m warning you. You need to set me down now!” She yelled at him. He ignored her. She fought her power back because even if she did hate her brother in this moment, she didn’t want to hurt him.

When he did toss her down it was on the bed in the servant quarters of her rooms. The door slammed behind him. The light that spilled in from the space under the door was blocked telling her that he was sitting on the other side. She bet if he could lock the door from the outside, he would have.

Her power erupted from her. She was thrown off the bed with the strength of the winds that swirled around her room. The few belongings she kept in the open in her room hit the walls, were picked up, and hit the walls again. Her trunk at the foot of her bed flipped open. She jumped to her feet to throw herself over the lid. At the bottom of her trunk she had two scrolls that held her prisoner records and the names of the men at the palace that had served as guards at Faserlaeh. She didn’t want those shredded in the winds that didn’t seem to be dying down yet. The trunk also held several very expensive ingredient items she had bought in Port Tythrenn that she had wanted to keep separate and safe from accidental use in her workshop.

She tried to use her power to push the winds away from the trunk, but they ignored her. She might have created them, but they didn’t listen to her. The lid of the trunk was thrown open even with her on top of it and she fell to the floor. She heard glass shattering and knew in her heart that her precious ingredients were gone. 

She sat up and felt something slice her cheek. She reached up to touch the warmth on her cheek and pulled her fingers away to examine them. In the dark of the room she could still make out the red sheen of blood. Another cut went across her left bicep. Another cut went over her right collarbone.

She dropped down to the floor knowing that glass was flying through the air. It was only a matter of time before it cut something vital or lodged inside of her skin. She crawled under the bed as it rocked in the wind. It lifted and dropped down several times.

She was scared. Terrified of her power. Terrified of how little control she had. Terrified that it would kill her. The door didn’t open. Elden seemed determined to let her suffer. She curled up under the bed hoping that she would be safe until the winds died.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat under the bed but it felt like a very long time before the winds finally faded into nothing. She crawled out and winced as her knee landed on shattered glass. The light from under the door was still blocked, telling her Elden was still there. She wished he would just move. There had been mage lights around her room but she doubted they survived the wind. She needed the light that came from the main bedroom, but she’d settle for the light under the door.

“Elden,” she called his name hoping he’d open the door. But he didn’t respond more than to shift slightly allowing a small amount of light to slip under the door for a moment. “Elden, please,” she called again.

“Go to sleep.” He shouted through the door. “Just go to sleep, Gwen.”

There was no sleeping. No moving from under the bed without chancing injuring herself further on broken glass. She curled up under the bed again. He’d have to open the door eventually. Either he’d decide she’d slept long enough or someone would come looking for her. He’d stop imprisoning her and she’d have light enough then to find a safe way out from under the bed. And then she’d be able to see what she could salvage of her belongings.

Gwen passed the time thinking about all of the things she’d say to Daric the next to he told her to let Elden have his full two weeks. She had mentioned the difficulties having him around posed to Daric several times, but each time Daric had told her to give him the full two weeks. She knew he was hoping she’d wear down and just give up and accept Elden, but perhaps this would change his mind.

Sometime later she heard multiple male voices on the other side of the wall. She hoped it meant that Gavril and Keiran had come for breakfast. They still came to breakfast in her rooms even when she wasn’t there in hopes she’d remember to show up from time to time. Most of the time Gavril stopped by her workshop to make her come with to breakfast if he suspected she was there. She pressed her ear up against the wall hoping to hear some of the conversation to see who was there.

“It was strange. Her workshop was unlocked this morning when I stopped by to get her, but she wasn’t in there. Her cot was on the ground still and the blanket was half folded, but she wasn’t there,” that was Gavril’s voice. “I had hoped she was here.”

“Perhaps she took a sleeping draught and decided to sleep in her actual bed,” Keiran tried. “She can be fairly impulsive.”

Gwen looked to the door to see the light still wasn’t coming in. Elden was still blocking the door.

“Right, I’ll check her bedroom and see if she’s here. Otherwise we need to consider that she might be missing,” Gavril sighed. She waited a long moment before she heard Gavril’s voice on the other side of her door. “Elden? What are you doing?”

“Guarding the door. She was being unreasonable and throwing a fit,” Elden’s voice was muffled by a yawn. He had been sleeping against the door.

“So you locked her in her room?” Gavril demanded.

“When she wouldn’t sleep as a child she just needed someone to keep putting her back in bed until she wore herself out. That’s all she needs now,” he commented.

Gwen frowned. Elden didn’t view this as imprisoning her. He viewed it as if she were still a small child that refused to go to bed. He was trying to treat her like he had when she was a child, the last time he had really ever interacted with her. Did he not realize she had grown up? Did he not see that she wasn’t the child he had once known? How could he not see the changes he had been responsible for in her? Variel had forced her to say it to him herself, he had killed his sister. She wasn’t that same child he had had to push back into bed until she could sleep. She wasn’t that same person he had bragged about to his friends in the Watch only hours before he had abandoned her.

“Move.” She heard Gavril growl. Never had she heard that tone out of him. His usual sunny disposition was rarely shaken. Even on the practice courts he joked around while others were serious. It certainly had an effect on Elden as he moved out of the way. Light filled the room as the door opened. “Solreth’s Light,” she heard Gavril breathe out. “You said she was throwing a fit,” she heard Gavril state. “Did you mean her power was throwing a fit?”

“I thought they were the same thing,” Elden grumbled.

“Gwen holds Variel’s power. It’s chaotic which means she can’t control it once it’s out. All she can do it hold it back and hope she’s strong enough,” Gavril growled. “If you heard something and didn’t let her out, didn’t try and help her, you failed in your job to protect her. Gwen?” He called for her.

“I’m here,” she called back from under the bed. “I need light to see how to get out without cutting myself up more.”

“I have a better solution, hold on.” She heard the crunch of glass under his boots and then she saw the bed lift up. “Stay down,” he told her. Then suddenly the bed was completely off of her and in the light coming from the other room she could see the wreckage of her windstorm.

No wall was left unmarked by the flying glass. The paint was slashed and chipped. The wood floor was littered with clothing, glass, shredded paper, and bedding. Her trunk was overturned and empty. Nothing was left untouched inside of it.

“You’re injured,” Gavril crouched down next to her and touched her cheek. “Wind?”

“I held it back as long as I could,” she informed him. Some part of her didn’t want Gavril to be disappointed in her lack of control.

“I know, Sweet,” he gave her a smile. “Keiran, go get Ameia,” Gavril turned towards the door. “The sooner we can get these cuts seen to the better.”

“No, I don’t need a healing for a few cuts,” Gwen sighed. “I have something in my workshop that will speed the healing along. I’ll use some of that after I clean this up.” She looked around the wreckage once more. Elden was leaning around the door looking as well.

“Where did the glass come from?” Keiran stepped in.

“I had vials of expensive ingredients in my trunk,” she sighed. “And the mage lights I had in here, I’m sure they shattered too.” She looked around. Books from inside of her trunk were ripped up. Her scrolls were both missing, she suspected they were shredded on the ground as well. 

“We’ll replace the ingredients,” Keiran informed her. “We’ll replace everything.”

“I don’t know if you can,” she looked to the Prince. “You can’t get them in Dovania. I had to search for them in Port Tythrenn. Damon could have told you how hard it was to find them.” She bit her lip. “And the books. They aren’t common ones.”

“I’m a Prince of Dovania. You’ll be amazed at what I can make happen,” Keiran informed her with a grin. “But there’s something else. I can see you don’t believe I can replace everything.”

“My records. I had them in this trunk. And the list you made for me. I know the list is replaceable but the records…” she bit her lip. The list would be useless if he replaced it without her having a copy of her records. At the bottom of her records had been a list of names of the guards that had taken her away from the other prisoners to hurt her in a different sense. She had asked for the list of men that had served at Faserlaeh from Daric and Keiran because she wanted to make sure she never crossed anyone that had attacked her.

“Okay,” Keiran stepped through the wreckage to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “I’ll have the servants take care of cleaning this up. You should bathe. Clean those cuts. We’ll go down to your workshop and you can use whatever you need to on them.”

“Then we can go talk to Daric about getting rid of this sorry excuse for a guard,” Gavril helped her to stand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Elden resting his head against the doorframe. She felt a tug at her heart. He felt bad enough. He had tried to do something brotherly but he hadn’t understood the situation. Perhaps he needed to understand what he was guarding a little better.

“No. I don’t need to speak to Daric yet. But I do want an escort, of my entire guard. Gavril, do you recall where we went to practice my control over my power? I’d like to go there. I want my entire guard to be there.” She looked to Gavril to see him frown.

“Are you thinking of trying again? Of trying to work on control again?” Gavril asked.

“No, but I think he needs to see what it can do,” she nodded to Elden at the door.

“I’d like to go with, Gwen,” Keiran announced.

“I’ll have Nic prepare my men too,” Gavril wrapped an arm around her waist. “Dress warm. It’s getting chilly outside.” He turned towards Elden. “I’d go prepare you men and have them get their mounts ready.”

Two hours later Gwen was mounted comfortably wrapped in layers of soft wool clothing and a thick warm cloak. Gavril rode in front of her with Nic at his side while Elden sat silent at her side. They were getting close to the spot where Gavril had taken her to practice controlling her power five months before. It was a valley off of the main road in the hills that separated the capital city of Oleryn from the harbor where the Royal Navy was stationed. It was the only port close to the capital and it was half a day’s ride from the palace.

“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes,” Gavril called back.

“Five months ago, after I first came to the palace,” Gwen turned to Elden. She made sure her voice was loud enough for the rest of Elden’s men to hear behind her. “I had in mind that I might be able to truly control my power. I had a hope that it truly was something as simple as willpower. Gavril brought me out here, away from anything and anyone that might be hurt by my attempts to control the power that Variel granted me in her Blessing.” Gavril stopped in front of her and dismounted. She dismounted too and started to walk towards the top of the hill that looked down into the valley she had practiced in. “It ended with Gavril being shipped back to palace in a wagon with a concussion and the Sergeant of my guard rushing me back to the palace on his horse to save my life.” She topped the rise and she felt Elden at her side. A sharp intake of breath told her he had caught sight of the valley.

The rest of the hills around the area were green and lush with thick grass. The valley below them was charred back. Rocks were ripped up from the ground leaving small craters in the darkness.

While the other men stared down into the valley she returned to her horse to start to pull off her layers. She pulled off her cloak, the soft leather gloves that protected her hands from the biting winds, the scarf she had wrapped around her neck, and the thick wool shirt she had pulled over a lighter linen shirt.

“What are you doing?” Elden asked. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Out here where you are staying, yes,” Gwen allowed herself a smile. “Look at the valley. Look around at the surrounding hills. They are lush and green when the dawn frost has turned the rest of the hills and valleys brown.” She nodded to the hills around them.

“We have a theory that the Godsfyre cyclone Gwen accidentally created, or even the Godsfyre rain she did all of that morning, warmed the ground so much that it’s still holding the heat. Down in the valley, it’s as hot as summer,” Gavril explained. Gwen left him to the talking as she descended down into the valley. It grew warmer and warmer as she neared the destroyed valley floor.

Her men needed to see the destruction. Elden needed to see the destruction. They needed to learn the consequences of her power so that they had an idea of how to protect her. Elden needed to know her power wasn’t exactly in her control.

She sat down in the center of the valley on the warm dirt and thought back to the moment she had thought she had been in control of her power. She had laughed at how it had finally come together for her.

Godsfyre was the part of her power she knew the best. It had been the part of her power she had felt inside of her the longest. It was a deadly fire that was so hot it could melt stone. It was more commonly called Solreth’s Fyre because it was considered the weapon of Solreth. That Gwen was able to produce it also marked it as a weapon of Variel making the term Godsfyre far more appropriate. Because she and Gavril could produce the deadly fire, they both seemed to be immune to it.

She had suspected at that time that winds responded to her as well, but she didn’t know how to call them or what they might do for her. Variel had helped her there, showing her the place in her power where wind came from when Variel had tried to possess her to make her power destroy the city of Port Tythrenn.

Variel had also revealed a small amount of lightning that played in her power. She had already proven that lightning was still with her by her exploding of Daric’s mirror.

“Gwen?” She heard Elden’s voice close to her. “You’re not going to try and do anything are you?” He asked.

“No. I don’t feel like being dragged before Ameia and being scolded when I do manage to injure myself,” she turned to look at him. “I’m not a child.”

“I know.”

“You can’t treat me like one,” she reminded him.

“I know.”

“You can’t throw me over your shoulder to enforce a bed time,” she saw him grimace.

“It worked when you were a child. I just thought…” he sighed.

“I understand that. What I need you to understand is that I’m not your sister. I’m not the little girl you doted on when we were younger.”

“You are still that girl, Gwen. You’re still my sister,” Elden knelt down next to her.

“I may look like your sister, Elden, but I’m not her. She died a long time ago,” Gwen fought back a pain in her chest. It was true and she knew it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“She died when Variel Blessed her,” Elden tried.

“No. That little girl that Variel Blessed was still your sister. That little girl that cried for you not to leave her, she was still your sister. That little girl you ignored when you came to the Temple of Solreth for services, she was still your sister. That little girl that discovered you hadn’t come for her when her father had died, she was still your sister.” Gwen turned to look away from Elden. She didn’t want to look at him. “That girl died the night of the fire. The night the Temple of Solreth burned down and her brother put her in shackles and sentenced her to death. She died the moment those shackles touched her skin.” She looked to her wrists and untied the two cloth strips she wore around the scars.

Before Port Tythrenn she had worn two wide, soft leather bracelets every day at all times unless an occasion called for something dressier. They had been left behind in Port Tythrenn when she had been rushed out and someone had tied the cloth ones in their place. She suspected that someone was Damon but no one could or would confirm it for her.

“Solreth’s Light,” she heard Elden whisper as she pulled the bracelets free and the thick strips of ruined white skin were revealed.

“When someone wears shackles for four years and they never come off, this is what happens,” she touched the scarred flesh and looked up to Elden again. “I am not your sister. That little girl doesn’t exist anymore because she wouldn’t have survived Faserlaeh.”

“But my sister is still in there,” Elden sat on the ground. “My sister loved alchemy. She was the brightest of all of us and we all knew it. Mother tried to teach all of us at her hip but only Gwen could understand her. She had such a bright future.” He inched a little closer until they were side by side both looking up at the autumn sky. “I destroyed that future single handedly. I’ve known that since the moment that ship pulled away from the docks with her on it. I should have heard her out. I should have listened to her. I should have helped her to escape the city to get her someplace safe. But in the heat of the moment, thinking she had truly meant to burn down the Temple of Solreth like the High Priest had claimed, I thought Variel had truly taken my sister from me and she was already gone beyond my help.”

Gwen fought the urge to look at him. Here he was explaining that he truly regretted what he had done to her.

“Why did you abandon your sister at the Temple of Solreth?” Gwen asked finally.

“We didn’t learn much about Variel when we were children. I learned the most about her when I entered training for the Tythrenn Watch. Variel was Solreth’s enemy. She was the ultimate evil. The criminal we needed to do away with. When you were Blessed by her I was afraid of her and what she had done to you. I wanted my sister to survive whatever Variel had done. I thought Solreth would save her so I brought her there. The High Priest told us we had to leave her there and not have contact with her. She needed to have Variel eradicated from her body and any contact with the outside world could set her back. He would contact us when she was free of Variel and we’d have our little Gwen back.” He turned to look at her then. “Walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. The other was living with myself knowing that you were dead because I had believed the High Priest that Variel was the ultimate evil.”

“What do you think the ultimate evil is now if not Variel?” Gwen found herself curious.

“I think the ultimate evil is what I did to you. And for repayment for my crimes against you, I am binding myself to you. I will serve you for the rest of my life to attempt to atone for what I have done.” He reached for her hand and held it for a second. “Please don’t ask for another guard. I promise I will do better.”

“I’ll give you two more weeks to prove it,” she sighed. Like Daric she had no intention of letting him go after two weeks. She could sense honesty in his story and she understood for all she hated it. She didn’t think it would make up for what he had done in the end, but he needed it. She wouldn’t deny him that.

“I promise, I’ll be better than your Sergeant Damon,” he stood.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she stood too. She was done in the valley.

“Then I promise that I will at least hold a candle to what he is to you.”

Gwen doubted Elden knew what he was promising but she believed he would certainly try and get there. She hoped one day he would meet Damon and he could see just how hard of a task that would be.


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen sat at her desk thinking. It was late, after midnight, but it was the quietest time of day for thinking. Even Elden was asleep. She knew that much because he had taken one of the couches in her sitting room and had made it his bed despite having his own room in the barracks. He had explained that in order to best protect her, he needed to be available to her at all times. Since she wouldn’t seek him out, and he knew she wouldn’t, he had to be there at all times.

His light snores from the other room reminded her of his constant presence and what it meant to him. His explanation of what had driven him to abandon his sister had made sense to her. She knew the power of the High Priest. She knew what sort of sway he had over the population. If she hadn’t been Blessed by Variel, she bet she would have cheered at the destruction of Variel’s Temple as well. And perhaps the High Priest did believe he could drive Variel’s Blessing from her, but from her experience at his hands, she guessed he had no intentions of ever sending her home. There were no attempts to drive Variel from her unless she counted the almost daily beatings from his cane for any displeasure she caused him. 

She could understand that the High Priest had said they had to leave her and not contact her to make sure she had the best chance of recovery. Perhaps he didn’t want them realizing what he was doing to her. Perhaps they thought she had been cared for the way a ward of the Temple of Solreth was due. She understood why they hadn’t contacted her. But it still hurt. It hurt in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

Part of her wondered if any of her family would have come back and smuggled her out if they had known she was locked in a closet at night, with only the hard marble floor for a bed. She wondered if they cared about the beatings and the hard labor that the High Priest had put her through. She knew she didn’t want an answer because she knew the answer would be, they wouldn’t have cared so long as it saved her from Variel. It wouldn’t have mattered if she was dead in the end so long as she was free of Variel and her Blessing. That was the power the High Priest had. 

She needed someone to talk to about it all. She wanted Damon. She knew he’d hear her out and try and make sense of everything. Then he’d tell her about how terrible the High Priest of Solreth in Port Tythrenn was and all of the wrongs that had been done to her that were against the scriptures of Solreth. She’d heard the lecture enough to hear it now in his voice. It was comforting and haunting. But Damon was gone, missing, very likely abducted by the High Priest in Port Tythrenn for helping her. There were no leads and there was nothing she could say or do to make anyone press the High Priest for answers under a truth spell.

Daric was out of the question for talking to because all he wanted to do now was tell her how beautiful she was and how smart she was. He wanted to compliment her clothes and the ever changing colors of her eyes. He wanted to compliment how her body had filled out in six months since she had been on regular full meals. He wanted to compliment her on her jewelry, the cloth bracelets she wore, and any other piece of jewelry he could find on her. She didn’t want to listen to any of that right now, or ever really.

Keiran wasn’t an option simply because he would try and fix it in his own way and when he got involved, she lost control of the situation. Though he often pretended to dislike being a Prince, he always fell back on it when other forms of bribery, reasoning, or logic failed him. With Gwen he used it to inform her that he could do things others couldn’t, like get her rare expensive herbs and spices that came from overseas when her stash had been destroyed.

Gavril was an option but he didn’t necessarily like Elden being around even after Gwen had taken Gavril aside to inform him that she wasn’t getting rid of Elden. He also would be a good person to talk to about the odd mixture of power she was experiencing. She could hold back the Godsfyre but the lightning and wind tended to escape her far too easily. He would try and help her make sense of why her power was acting up so much now.

As she thought about Gavril, a memory struck her of him standing bathed in Solreth’s Light. Gavril had been touched a second time by his patron god the day he had left for Port Tythrenn. Solreth’s Light had come down from the heavens, had wrapped around him like a sunbeam, and then had disappeared. Gavril had sent Nic away and then had turned to address her. Perhaps Gavril had experiences a change in his power after that. She hadn’t thought to ask. But he didn’t seem to be having any issues.

Another part of the memory forced its way into her mind. _Solreth had a message for you. Do not fear my temples. I am waiting within._

Gavril had been touched by Solreth’s Light a second time but the result had been a message for her. She had thought she’d have to face Solreth when they entered his temple in Port Tythrenn but she had never had to go inside. Perhaps she didn’t need to speak to a person about everything. Perhaps she needed to speak to a god. Solreth was the God of Law, Order, Warriors, and the Sun. Certainly she could pray to him for some guidance. But she didn’t want witnesses for her seeking him out.

It was best to do it right away, since there would be few witnesses at night and she would lose resolve if she didn’t go immediately. But there was a slight problem. Elden would want to go with her if she went now. He’d wake when she walked out into the sitting room and out of the main door. He’d follow and she didn’t need him as a witness to this. The door in the sitting room was the only way out of her suite though. Or was it?

She turned and looked to the privy. When she had first met Voleus’ Blessed, Edith, she had climbed through Gwen’s privy window and had left the same way. Since then, Gwen had kept the window unlocked and Edith found her way in from time to time. 

She stood and crept towards the privy. If Edith could find a way in, she could find a way out. She closed the door to the privy and waited a moment before turning around. “Alright, let’s see if you are a vain as I think you are. Edith, I need you.” Her voice was soft but it was enough as she saw Edith appear out of the shadows.

“I’m not vain. And what kind of sister would I be if I wasn’t here when you needed me?” She gave Gwen a wolfish smile. Edith held a feral look with masses of brown hair, shining silver eyes, and a slightly hooked nose. She truly embodied the Trickster Blessed persona. Before she had been Blessed by Voleus, she had been a jewel thief who enjoyed stalking and stealing from Prince Daric and his ever watchful guard Damon. Now she enjoyed eluding her own guards. “What do you need me to steal tonight?” She grinned at Gwen. Gwen wouldn’t ask how Edith knew she was needed. It was better not to ask questions of Edith if at all possible.

“No stealing,” Gwen whispered. “I need to leave my suite without Elden knowing. I need to leave the palace grounds without witnesses.”

“You’re running away?” Edith asked, her silver eyes went wide and her voice became soft.

“No,” Gwen rushed to assure her. “I just need to do something without witnesses,” Gwen made sure to keep her eyes on Edith’s. She wanted Edith to know that she was being honest.

“Alright. Give me ten minutes,” Edith went out of the window without another word. Gwen slipped out of the privy to gather her cloak and her belt purse before returning to the privy. Edith was already back though it had barely been two minutes.

She held a rope and wrapped it around Gwen’s waist several times and then set up a stool under the window.

“I don’t have time to teach you to scale the wall to get back up but I’ll lower you down nice and easy. You’ll have to come back in through the front door. Tell your brother he slept a little harder than usual and you didn’t want to wake him.” She helped Gwen up to the window ledge where Gwen was able to see the rope was draped over a decorative stone that jutted out an extra foot from the ledge under her window. “I’ll lower you down. It’s perfectly safe.”

“What if the rope breaks or it slides off of the stone?” Gwen asked.

“Then try and roll when you hit the ground. It will lessen the damage. But really, it’s not that far. A broken leg or arm at the most if you don’t land on your head. Don’t land on your head,” Edith whispered. Her rooms were only three stories up leaving the ground about twenty-five feet below but a fall would still hurt. She didn’t want to break any bones and have to explain herself to Ameia. She doubted the Moon Blessed would understand. 

Eiannae’s Chosen, Ameia, had been granted the power to heal when she had become Blessed. She was stronger than any mage healer Gwen had ever heard of. After Gwen had had her incident with the Godsfyre cyclone, Ameia had decided that she would be Gwen’s primary healer. Any injuries or illnesses she had, had to be brought before her to be healed. 

But Gwen didn’t have time to dwell on Ameia’s possible wrath because Edith was helping her to ease over the ledge and then she was holding onto a thick knot in the rope as it slowly descended towards the ground with her on it.

The rope didn’t break nor did it slip off of the stone and make her tumble down to the ground. Her feet touched the ground at last and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Edith was by her side a moment later though Gwen wasn’t sure how. She honestly believed that Edith could become shadow and move through shadows quickly if she wanted to but she never had the heart to ask what Edith’s Blessing had granted her. She doubted she’d get a clear answer or a real answer as it was. Edith was a woman of half-truths and jokes. She liked to prank and joke as much as she liked to steal.

“You’d better come back,” Edith told her finally. “Or I will hunt you down.”

“I expect nothing less,” Gwen grinned at Edith in the dark. “I promise I’ll come back.” She started to walk away and then she realized who she had been talking to. She had told Edith she needed to do something without witnesses. That would entice any of her fellow Blessed but certainly Edith the most. “Can I trust that you won’t follow?”

“You can. I think I’m going to go and see if Daric has left anything important out in the open while he sleeps. Perhaps I can test his new night guards,” Edith cackled as she disappeared from Gwen’s sight. Gwen shook her head. Edith wouldn’t follow her when she wanted to toy with Daric and his guards.

The Temple District of Oleryn was impressive but still second to the Temple District of Port Tythrenn. Oleryn’s Temple District was located just outside of the palace, making it a quick walk. Solreth’s Temple was one of the largest due to his status granted by mortals as one of the greatest of the gods. He was rivaled in status only by Eiannae the Goddess of Healing, Fertility, Childbirth, and the Moon.

Solreth’s Temple in Oleryn was made of grand marble with cloth of gold draped off every column like a banner. From outside of the door Gwen could see golden sundisks, golden shields, and golden books of law were littered around as glittering reminders of what the Sun God stood for. Only a few lamps were lit by the altar, and absolutely no one else was in sight. Still she hesitated. Gwen didn’t want to face Solreth and his wrath for burning down his temple and killing his priests. But his message had said not to fear his temples. It seemed impossible for the God of Law to use trickery to get her to face him which meant she might actually be safe from his wrath. 

She put a toe over the threshold and then her whole foot. Nothing happened. Feeling a slight let down, she stepped her other foot into the temple and continued to walk deeper into the temple until she stood before the altar. After a moment she knelt down before the altar and dug in her belt purse for an offering of a gold coin and a small vial of sandalwood oil. Sandalwood was for protection and she could always use a little protection.

“It seems Voleus was wrong about you,” she heard a deep male’s voice echo through the chamber. Immediately she looked around and saw a man with deeply tanned golden brown skin, warm cinnamon colored eyes, and golden red hair that reminded her of Daric’s. He stood well over seven feet tall with golden plate armor, a great silver sword, and a ruby shield. “He bet you wouldn’t dare face me. I was beginning to think he was right with how long it took you.”

“I was afraid,” Gwen admitted to the god that ruled her life as much as Variel did.

“Even though I said not to fear?” Solreth asked.

“You have every reason to hate me. I burned down your temple in Port Tythrenn. I killed your priests,” Gwen blushed, hating herself for reminding the great god of her transgressions against him.

“Let me tell you what you did,” Solreth stepped towards her with his sword in hand. She felt her body trembling in response. He could slice her in half with one twitch of that blade. She wouldn’t even have time to scream and no one would come to help her. He was going to take justice for what she had done. 

“You burned a corrupt temple to the ground,” came his deep carrying voice. “You rid the world of eleven corrupt priests. You have no reason to fear me because you have not wronged me.” He stopped in front of her and sheathed his sword. His large hand dwarfed her shoulder as he gripped it. The heat from his skin tingled where he touched her. “You come here seeking answers, I will grant them to you. First, your brother, Elden Wood. He has prayed many times to me for your safety over the many years. He tells you the truth. He was misguided and wronged you. His penance is to serve you however you ask of him. That was my will and he is following it.” He smiled. “Second, you seek an answer about my devout follower Damon of Terrowyn. He is alive, for now. I watch over him the best I can but I cannot give you a location. The answer you seek lies in Alonox’s Chosen.”

“Keiran and his dreams,” Gwen whispered as Solreth gave her a smile for solving the not so complex riddle. The way he had said Damon was alive for now made her want to run out of the temple and force Keiran awake so he could use his power on her. It meant Damon had limited time and she wouldn’t let him die because of her. But Solreth’s hand on her shoulder kept her in place.

“Lastly you look for answers of your power. Right now there is no controlling the power inside of you because Variel granted you her strongest Blessing. No human could control that sort of power. All you have been able to do is hold it back. You were brave in Port Tythrenn, holding Variel back in her grief. Many innocent people owe their lives to you. You’ll have more battles ahead and to face those, you’ll need more than the ability to hold Variel’s power back. You’ll need to be able to embrace it.” 

Solreth, the Sun God, leaned down and pressed his warm lips to her forehead where Variel had once placed her lips. The place they touched burned for a moment and then cooled. Something filled her entire being like a comfortable warmth. It tingled in every nerve in her body, ran through her blood, and resonated in her bones.

“You need to master the chaos inside of you,” Solreth’s deep voice shook her. “Remember, You are not at the mercy of the Chaos, You are the Chaos. Embrace your Chaos, become your Chaos.” He stepped back but kept his hand on her shoulder. “My Blessing will stay with you always. You need never fear Variel’s power escaping your hold again.” Solreth vanished and Gwen’s knees went out from under her in shock.

Solreth not only gave her the answers she needed, he had Blessed her. It wasn’t the same as the Blessing he had given Gavril but she felt in control of her body for the first time in a long time. She would never have to fear harming someone accidentally again.

She jumped to her feet. She wanted to run to Gavril. She had seen Solreth and he had answered her questions and he had Blessed her. Of all people he would appreciate that. It was his patron god. She ran from the temple noting that the moon had moved enough to tell her a couple of hours had passed at least though it had only felt like a few minutes.

Gwen stopped just short of the palace gates as doubts hit her. Perhaps Gavril would resent her for what had just happened to her. Gavril was the bearer of Solreth’s Blessing but she had seen him and he had granted her a Blessing too. It wasn’t the same. It was simply control. But she had seen his patron when he never had.

He’d be obligated to tell Keiran why he was angry with her. Keiran would be obligated to tell his father and Daric. They would make a big deal out of it. She would be made a spectacle simply because she had needed a special second Blessing to control the first one she had received.

Just as suddenly as the doubts had hit her she realized she was being silly. Not about Daric or the King but she certainly was being silly about Gavril. Gavril hadn’t faulted her for burning Solreth’s Temple. Perhaps he’d hear her out enough to not hate her. She’d wake him now while she was still so infused with Solreth’s confidence instilling power.

The barracks was quiet but dawn was still a couple hours away. It would be far more busy in an hour or two when the men woke up and stumbled down to breakfast in the barrack’s mess. Though she had been at the palace for half of a year, she had never stepped foot in the barracks. She had never felt comfortable going anywhere near where the guards had their beds after the treatment the guards of Faserlaeh had given her. Now she set aside that fear and walked along the halls searching for the door with a giant sun carved onto it.

She found it on the second floor and knocked. There was a long minute before she heard someone on the other side grumbling. The door opened and she saw Nic blinking sleepily out at her. Of course he would be there. He used the pretext of guarding Gavril’s door overnight as a way of hiding their physical side of their relationship. It was frowned upon for two men to be lovers, especially two men in the warrior field. If Nic was discovered, it would likely jeopardize his career simply because some of his men might not take orders from a sergeant that slept with men.

“Gwen?” He opened the door wider.

“Gwen?” She heard Gavril echo from further back. There was a rustling of cloth and the padding of feet on the wooden floor before Gavril came to the door wearing only a dressing robe. She glanced at Nic and realized he had probably spent that minute pulling on his shirt and breeches. “What’s this about? Are you okay?”

“I need to talk to you,” she told him feeling the confidence filling her voice. “I went to Solreth’s Temple.” Gavril blinked at her once, twice, and then his eyes went wide. He looked around the hall for anyone else then seized her arm and dragged her into his suite, closing the door behind her.

“This was the first time since I gave you Solreth’s message, wasn’t it,” he demanded. “Are you alright?” His ran his hands down her arms, across her stomach, around her back as if he were checking for damage. Then he cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “Something is different.”

“I need you to hear me out,” she felt some of the confidence leaving her. She didn’t want to lose Gavril if he did resent her seeing Solreth. Gavril sat her down on a couch while Nic went to grab cups and water from a pitcher on Gavril’s dining table. “I don’t want this to leave this room if it can be helped. Solreth appeared to me.” She heard the sound of something falling over and looked to see Nic hastily picking up the pitcher of water and mopping up the spill. His eyes were wide.

“You saw Solreth,” Gavril pressed.

“I needed his advice,” she whispered. “And he… he…” her confidence left her.

“Talk to me, Sweet,” Gavril’s large hands wrapped around hers.

“He gave me a Blessing,” Gwen looked away from Gavril. “Not a Blessing like he gave you. He knew I couldn’t control Variel’s power. He said no human could, not that much power anyway. I think he gave me the ability control the power I already have.” It was silent in the sitting room. She looked to Gavril to find him watching her. “Please don’t hate me. I needed this.”

“Oh, Sweet, I couldn’t hate you even if I wanted to,” Gavril moved to sit next to her and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m just marveling in the fact you are now Twice Blessed. The King is going to parade you around like mortal goddess.”

“Which is why I’m hoping it will stay in this room,” Gwen blushed.

“It’s treason to hold news of a Blessing back from the King,” Nic whispered. “You two might be able to get away with it, but if he found out I knew and didn’t report it, I’ll be imprisoned at best.”

Gwen grimaced. Keiran had informed her the law had come into effect because of her. When King Alaric discovered his son was not the first Blessed of the past century, he had been furious that he hadn’t known. In order to protect himself from not having that sort of information again, he had enacted a law that made withholding any news of a Blessing from any of the gods as treason against the Crown and thus the Kingdom of Dovania.

“I’ll tell Keiran in the morning then,” Gwen sighed. She hadn’t thought about that or its consequences. If it had just been her and Gavril they might have been safe. The King didn’t seem all that concerned with treason and law breaking amongst his Blessed so long as they added to the greatness of Dovania and his reign.

“I don’t hate you, Sweet,” Gavril hugged her tight. “Don’t believe that I ever could. You needed this. Anyone that knows you knows the battles you fight with yourself.”

“I need to speak with Keiran about other things too. I need Keiran to make me sleep,” Gwen sighed.

“He keeps some draughts on hand. Do you want me to go wake him and get one?” Gavril stood.

“No, I need him to use his power on me and make me sleep,” she gripped Gavril’s hand. “I need you to help me convince him to make me sleep.”

“You know he hates using his power,” Gavril reminded her, his tone wary.

“I know,” Gwen bit her lip. “But it’s important. I think it’s the key to finding Damon.”

“You’ve been saying that since we returned home without him,” Gavril reminded her. Yes, she had asked Keiran several times to grant her sleep to see if she could find Damon, but Keiran didn’t want to chance her seeing something else or perhaps something more horrific than Damon being hit upside the head with a baton.

“Solreth hinted that’s where I might find the answer,” she whispered. The admission was greeted by a moment of silence before Gavril replied.

“We’ll talk to him first thing in the morning, over breakfast. I doubt you’ve slept at all as it is,” Gavril shook his head and glanced at Nic.

“I’ll go. You two can go back to how you were before I showed up,” she stood.

“We were only sleeping,” Gavril blushed a pretty shade of pink all the way up to his ears.

“Without your clothes,” Gwen winked watching that blush darken to red. “I shouldn’t have interrupted, but I needed to talk to someone.”

“It’s alright, Gwen,” Nic assured her. “Gods, Twice Blessed,” he shook his head. “No one in all of recorded history has held two Blessings from two different gods.” He shook his head again. “I don’t know about you, Love,” he looked to Gavril. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to return to sleep. How about we go introduce Gwen to the bakers who inhabit the kitchens at night and teach her how to charm breakfast pastries out of them?”

“Alright, give me a moment to clean up a bit and change clothes. I suggest you do that as well Nic. I doubt we’re going to be leaving Gwen’s side until after she’s brought up before the King.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Gwen was dressed in her best silk tunic, silk hose, and silk undershirt. She wore gemmed bracelets over her scars. Her hair was smoothed down and twisted into an intricate braid. She wore the barest amount of cosmetics on her face. Keiran was leading her, his hand firmly grasping her fingers to keep her moving forward. Behind her Gavril, Nic, and Elden kept pace with them though she felt like they were running through the halls.

She was glad that she had eaten her fill of pastries in the kitchens before dawn because after she had sat down with Keiran over breakfast in her rooms, no food had been eaten. Keiran made her recall every detail of her second Blessing and then he had insisted she bathe, change into the clothes he had picked out for her while she bathed, and style herself somewhat appropriately for Court. Once he had deemed her ready they were off.

They stopped outside of a set of double doors that stood ten feet tall and seven feet wide. They both held carved and painted royal insignias. They were the doors that led to the Throne Room. Since she had arrived in Oleryn she had only been inside of the Throne Room once when she had first been brought into the palace though she knew it was open every day for Court to gather and for the King and Daric to hear petitions.

“Announce us,” Keiran snapped at the guard standing outside of the door.

“But his Majesty is hearing a petition from Lord Bariden regarding trade with--” he stopped when Keiran glared.

“Announce us, I can guarantee he’ll want to hear this now,” Keiran snapped. The man rushed inside while Keiran turned to straighten her collar. “Are you ready? No, probably not, but here we are. It’s best to get this over with now. Follow my lead.” He said nothing else as he pulled her arm through his and stepped up to the opening in the doors.

“His Highness, Prince Keiran of Moardwyn, Prince of the Kingdom of Dovania, Chosen of the god Alonox and Dream Blessed, Lady Gwendolyn, Variel’s Chosen and Chaos Blessed, Lord Gavril Solreth’s Chosen and Sun Blessed, Sergeants Nicolas and Elden of the Royal Guard requesting immediate audience!” The man called.

Gwen was impressed that he not only knew all of their names but that he also knew which sergeants of the Royal Guard were with them. She’d ask Keiran later how he had known, but for now Keiran was sweeping her into the Throne Room. 

When she had first arrived, she had been brought before the King in this room and it was empty of people on all sides. Now it was filled with the nobility of Dovania that called Court home or were visiting. It held ambassadors and visitors from other countries looking to make alliances or trade agreements with Dovania. 

She watched the men and woman of Court bow and curtsey as Keiran passed. He paid them no mind as he led her straight up to the place in front of the dais where King Alaric sat with Daric in a smaller throne at his side. Both looked quite surprised. The man that had been standing in place in front of the dais bowed out of their way far to the side of the dais.

“My dear son,” King Alaric crooned. “To what might we owe this rare visit to the Throne Room?”

“Father, something extraordinary happened last night right here in Oleryn that must be marked down in our history,” Keiran released Gwen’s arm to turn to face her. “Lady Gwendolyn approached me this morning to tell me that when she had gone to pray last night in the Temple of Solreth, the Great Sun God himself appeared before her.” She heard a gasp ripple through the crowd. “He bent down over her and kissed her head to grant her his Blessing.”

“Can this be verified?” King Alaric was sitting up straight in his golden throne.

“Your Majesty, I can verify Lady Gwendolyn was called to the Temple by Solreth by the great god himself,” Nic stepped forward. “Your own sons, and twenty Royal Guards can attest to witnessing Lord Gavril receiving the message to give to her.”

“I can see the change in Lady Gwendolyn that could only have come from Solreth’s Blessing. She came to me after her Blessing seeking guidance,” Gavril spoke up.

“Lady Gwendolyn is Twice Blessed,” Keiran announced to his father and all of Court, his voice echoing in the silent room.

All of Court was staring at her in shock. The King was staring at her like a trophy to be mounted on his wall. And Daric, he was staring at her in a way that made her wish she could hide behind Gavril. There was a fire burning in his eyes that marked a greed she didn’t want to see in him. It was the same greed she had witnessed in the eyes of the guards in Faserlaeh when they came across a prisoner they desired. 

“Then we shall have to have a party in her honor,” King Alaric announced suddenly. “The day after tomorrow, with Lady Gwendolyn as Our honored guest. And we’ll have messengers go out to all corners of the realm to announce her new status immediately! The Gods have surely smiled down on Dovania!” The Court cheered at the King’s words. All Gwen could feel was dread. 

She hardly noticed Keiran taking her arm and steering her out of the Throne Room. Gwen was still reeling from the sudden attention. She rested her head against the wall in the hallway after Keiran let her arm go. Despite the confidence that Solreth had given her the night before, she felt terrified of what she had witnessed. She was a trophy to the King, but Daric wanted something more than that from her. Warm hands pried her away from the wall and turned her into a muscular shoulder that smelled of fresh mint and clove.

“You looked traumatized by the thought of a party in your honor. Don’t you like my Court, Darling?” Daric’s voice came from the person holding her.

“Don’t tease her,” Keiran snapped.

“I’m not teasing. I’m asking a question,” Daric retorted. He moved her back and she met his eyes. Yes, it was still there. That desire she didn’t want to see. “What’s wrong?”

“I know how to find Damon,” she hadn’t meant to say anything to Daric. She had meant to speak to Keiran alone or with Gavril’s help but she needed to tell Daric something to get him to stop looking at her that way.

“How?” Daric moved to cup her cheek with one hand while the other stayed holding her to him.

“I need Keiran to use his power to put me to sleep. The answer I seek lies within Alonox’s Chosen,” she felt her voice being echoed by something deeper and she knew the men heard it to as they all stared at her.

“Solreth,” Keiran whispered.

“It’s getting a little concerning hearing the voices of the gods echo your voice,” Elden informed her, coming to take her from Daric’s grasp. “I’ll never forget that speech you gave me on the steps of the Temple of Solreth with Variel’s voice behind you.”

“If it’s concerning to you, imagine how I feel,” Gwen felt a grin tug at her lips despite the words. She was grateful for Elden in that moment. He had taken this all very well and now he was being somewhat normal while the others stared. He was also moving himself very slowly between Daric and herself. She’d ask him later if her discomfort was so obvious.

“Alright, Gwen, when do you want to do this?” Keiran sighed.

“Now. I want to do this now,” she turned to Keiran. “Damon is alive for now. I want him brought home still alive.”

“What if it doesn’t show you Damon or where he is?” He asked after a moment.

“Then we’ll try again,” Gwen informed him. “I know you don’t control what I can see,” she reached out her hand for Keiran’s. “Come on, I let you drag me through the halls and up in front of Court.”

“Alright,” Keiran took her hand. “But we’ll stop at your workshop and get your blanket. I want you to have whatever comfort you need. I haven’t forgotten that last night on the ship when you woke up screaming.”

“What blanket is this?” Elden asked.

“It’s a green one that she won’t sleep without. She even brought it to Port Tythrenn,” Daric supplied. “It’s been in your workshop? Why is it there? Why not in your bedroom?”

“What I don’t understand is why that blanket?” Keiran cut across Daric as he started to pull Gwen away.

“I _can_ sleep without it,” she glanced back at Daric. “And I don’t know why that blanket.” She shrugged. “It’s the one Damon brought me after the cyclone incident when he found out I didn’t want to sleep on the big bed surrounded by a hundred pillows. He said I needed something comfortable.” She shrugged. “It’s comfortable and familiar.” She shrugged again.

“Because Damon gave it to you,” Elden tried.

“No,” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“All answers seem to go back to this Damon fellow,” Elden muttered but it was loud enough to hear.

“They were very close by the time the Temple of Solreth opened,” Gavril supplied. “He’s the only one she thought to pull out of bed in the middle of the night to take to Variel’s Temple with her.” 

“He was acting as my guard and he never would have forgiven me if I didn’t wake him up to tell him I was going,” Gwen retorted. 

“You went to Solreth’s Temple in the middle of the night last night without waking your guard,” Elden replied.

“There’s a good question. If Damon were here, would you have gone to the Temple of Solreth alone last night?” Gavril asked.

Gwen bit her lip as she thought about it. Would she have even gone to the temple had Damon still been around? It was unlikely. If Damon had been around, Elden likely wouldn’t have gotten close to her. Perhaps her power wouldn’t have been so hard to handle. And she wouldn’t have needed answer to where he was. But she knew she would have brought him with her had she actually gone. She wasn’t going to admit it, but she would have asked him to go with her.

“I wouldn’t have had a reason to go if Damon were still here,” Gwen said finally. “And so we’re clear,” Gwen stopped at the door of her workshop. “You will all find something else to do while I’m asleep.”

“No, not all of us,” Elden informed her. “I’m going to be nearby in case you see something terrible and need someone when you wake.”

“You’ll come find me when you’re awake?” Keiran asked.

“I hope I’ll have to,” she grinned at him.

“Then you should sleep here, in your workshop, where you are comfortable. Elden won’t disrupt anything, will he?” Keiran turned to glance at her brother.

“No, I know how to respect an alchemist’s work space,” Elden grumbled. “Mother made sure of that.”

“Then say goodnight to Gwen,” Keiran informed the others. 

Gavril stopped to squeeze her hand and Nic gave her a nod before they turned to leave them. Daric took her hand and bent over it to brush his lips over her fingers, then he stepped aside and leaned against the wall across from the door.

“I’m going to wait for Keiran,” he explained.

“I wish he would stop that sort of thing,” Gwen sighed when the door closed behind him. “I think he’s even starting to believe he’s not just flirting,” Gwen shuddered. When she looked to Keiran she saw him giving her an odd look. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He nodded to her closet where her cot was.

When she was settled on her cot, Keiran knelt over her. In the light of the workshop she saw something as dark as the night sky lit by stars grow in his hand. Slowly he swept it across her forehead. She barely had enough time to hear him tell her she’d be asleep for a while before her mind fell away to darkness.

She found herself standing in an all too familiar space. The gray floor was clean but she knew it wouldn’t be for long. The gray walls were embedded with rings of cold gray metal for shackles to be attached to. And in the center of the room, where she stood, were four tall gray stone posts with chains hanging from them.

As soon as she recognized the place, the doors opened at each end of the room and four long lines of thin, haggard men and women were dragged inside by guards in neat gray uniforms. The women wore sack dresses that barely covered to their knees. The men wore sleeveless shirts and rough made breeches that could have been made from burlap for all she could tell.

The lines of prisoners were chained to the rings of metal on the walls, separating them out against the four walls. Two lines were women. Two were men. She searched the faces of the men hoping she was wrong. She hoped Keiran’s worry was right and she wasn’t in the right place. Guards were moving between the prisoners now, looking for their victims.

A female with long, light toned, braided hair and enough flesh to mark her as new, was picked from the first line. A female with the blank stare of a broken soul was picked from the second. A thin man with a limp and a bleeding lip was chosen from the third. Then he eyes fell on the fourth man. She knew him by the way he walked even when he was shackled and looked worn. She knew the color of his hair even when it was drained of all color. She knew the shade of his eyes when she saw him dare to look up.

She forced herself to note how muscular he still was as they attached his shackles to the chains at the fourth pillar. Damon was still surviving though it had been a month and a half since he had likely arrived. 

She bit her lip as the men’s shirts and the women’s dresses were rolled down to reveal their backs and chests to the guards. She recognized the faces of the guards and she recognized the face of the captain as the door open and he strode in. He had been somewhat new when she had left, but she didn’t doubt he’d come to watch these sorts of beatings. He seemed the type to enjoy his prisoners’ suffering.

Iron tipped whips were produced and Gwen fought back a cry as the first lash fell on Damon’s back. She felt her own body jerk as his did. Pain erupted across her own back as she watched the line of black appear on his back marking his blood. She couldn’t look to the other prisoners now. She only had eyes for Damon as the whips were raised and brought down again. Again she jerked when he did and she felt the pain of the wound that appeared on his skin. A third lash fell, a fourth, a fifth. Gwen lost count as she fell to her knees with the pain she was experiencing, with the pain Damon was experiencing. Damon’s knees buckled a lash after hers. 

Somewhere in the distance she could make out the sound of a lead cored baton hitting flesh and she managed to turn her head. The second woman was down, her shackles keeping her still hanging just above the ground. The first man was down as well, a crack in his skull bleed openly. He was dead but the guard still beat his corpse with the baton. 

She turned her head back to Damon and saw he wasn’t looking to anyone else. He stared at the ground as another lash fell. How many lashes had he endured? She knew it was more than the normal amount as the first woman was already being unshackled. The other prisoners were being led out when she gained the courage to look around again, but Damon was left kneeling with the two corpses hanging from their posts next to him. The Captain rounded on him.

“Not standing tall now, are you?” The Captain laughed and pulled out a baton to thrust under Damon’s chin. He lifted Damon’s head until Damon met his eyes. “Thirty more,” he told the guard behind Damon while smiling down at Damon’s face. “Better do the front so that you get some fresh flesh.”

The Captain took his baton away but Damon’s head remained held high. Gwen could have told him it was a bad idea. He needed to look defeated. He needed to look like he was breaking. He needed to not push them into worse punishments. The Captain’s baton smashed into Damon’s stomach forcing him to curl into himself. Gwen felt sharp searing pain pour into her left side. How was he still on his knees? She was lying on the floor curled into a ball with the intensity of the pain.

“Thirty lashes to the front,” the Captain repeated. “Then return him to the work line.”

The guards raised the chains on the post up higher, forcing Damon’s arms up to reveal his torso. Each lash opened a fresh cut on his body. Each lash left her feeling his pain as her own. She laid on the gray stone floor jerking with every crack of the whip.

Sometime later Gwen realized she was no longer on the hard stone floor but on her cot. Her knees were curled up into her chest. Her back and chest felt ripped open. The left side of her ribcage ached sharply with every breath and tiny movement. She was awake but she still felt the pain of the dream. 

“Oh, please tell me that you are awake,” Elden’s hand swept over her forehead. “Please,” he whispered. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“I need,” she gasped out.

“Oh, thank Solreth. I mean Alonox. I mean… oh, thank all of the Gods,” Elden moved to sit in front of her. “What do you need, Gwen?”

“Keiran. I need,” she grimaced as talking caused fresh pains in her ribcage. “I need to talk to him now.”

“I need to talk to him too if this is what his power does to you,” Elden growled. Gwen only managed to blink at the threat. It would have been amusing to watch her brother try and threaten Keiran if she wasn’t in so much pain. “Should I go and get him?”

“No. I should go to him,” she felt tears leaking out of her eyes. “Help me up.” She hated herself in that moment. It was going to hurt to uncurl her legs. It was going to hurt to stand, to walk, to go any distance out in the hall. She hated herself but she knew she needed to go to Keiran. Having Elden go without her meant Elden would tell her condition to Keiran and likely frighten him more than necessary.

“Can I convince you otherwise? Please. I don’t want to move you until a healer looks at you.” She managed to open her eyes and look up at Elden’s face. He was pale, his blue eyes wide. His hair stood on end as if he had been pulling on it for some time.

“We’ll find a healer after. I need to do this now,” Gwen winced as she tried to straighten her legs.

“Fine, I’ll carry you. You are not walking,” he thrust his arms under her and brushed against her torn open back. She cried out and he stopped moving instantly. “I’m sorry. Tell me how to avoid hurting you.”

“There’s no way to avoid it,” she shook her head. If she walked, she’d be in terrible pain from her ribs. Even if he braced her, he’d touch some place on her back. If he carried her he’d touch some place on her back. “Just lift.” He lifted and she bit her lip against the pain.

“I’ll go quick. I’ll set you down as soon as I can,” he whispered in her ear. 

Her eyes stayed closed as Elden ran through the halls with her. Each step he made bounced her just enough to release fresh stabs of pain in her ribs and her back. Wetness trickled down her cheeks.

“Let us pass,” Elden stopped abruptly.

“Is Prince Daric expecting you?” Someone asked. She frowned. Daric? She had asked Elden to bring her to Keiran.

“This is Lady Gwendolyn, Variel’s Chosen and the Chaos Blessed, he is always expecting her. Open the damned door,” Elden snapped. Then they were moving again.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” She heard Daric’s panicked voice.

“I’m going to set you down,” Elden told her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry if this hurts.” He lowered her down onto a couch.

“She’s hurt? Did someone attack her?” Keiran’s voice was close.

“I couldn’t tell you. She jerked around and cried out in her sleep for four hours before she woke up and couldn’t move without the pain. You tell me what you did to her,” Elden growled.

“Stop,” Gwen reached out to grab Elden’s hand. “He doesn’t control it.”

“Something in the dream hurt you?” Keiran’s hands were on her cheeks, cupping her face to get her to look at him.

“Not me,” she shook her head. “Damon.”

“You saw someone hurt Damon, and it hurt you?” Keiran swept a thumb under her eye.

“I don’t know why, but yes.” It didn’t make sense to her at all. It hadn’t hurt when she had seen the baton come down on Damon when he had been abducted, not physically at least.

“I need someone to go get Ameia, the Moon Blessed. Tell her Keiran is asking for her to come immediately,” Keiran called to someone by the door. “You saw Damon. He’s alive?”

“For now,” she felt tears welling up in her eyes. If he didn’t learn to keep his head down, he’d go the way of the man that had been chained on the post next to him. He’d anger some guard or the Captain enough for them to end his life in a violent, bloody death.

“Where is he? I’ll send for his men to come home and then I’ll send them out to get him,” Daric sat down on her other side and seized one of her hands to rub between his.

“No. That may take too much time,” Gwen shook her head. “I’ll go. I’ll need a pardon written for him. And a ship equipped for a month. I can leave in the morning.” 

“You’re not leaving if Ameia doesn’t clear you,” Keiran informed her. “Tell me where Damon is and I’ll judge what we need to do and how soon we can do it.”

“The High Priest of Solreth has a preferred place to stick his enemies,” she shook her head. “Keiran, he’s exactly where you found me.”

“But he’s not a mage,” Daric whispered. “Only mages go there.”

“Where is he?” Elden asked. “What did she see?”

“He’s in Faserlaeh,” Keiran explained. “But he didn’t commit treason. You need a magistrate and undeniable proof. You need an official magistrate of the Royal Court to declare an act treasonous or deserving of Faserlaeh.”

“And he’s not a mage,” Daric repeated. It seemed to be the only thing he could grasp about the wrongness of the whole situation. 

“How could he possibly prove that he isn’t a mage to them?” Gwen asked. “That whole place is built of stones that are made to bind the power. They are so strong they leech color from world around them until everything is just bland gray and they take the taste right out of food.” She shuddered.

“No,” Daric’s voice was almost too quiet for her to hear.

“What?” Keiran asked.

“No. Gwen, you are not going back to that place to get him. You are not going anywhere near that place. I won’t let you,” she felt his lips graze her cheek. “If what you saw in your dream hurt you this much, I can’t let you go back.” His lips pressed against her cheek again. Some part of her wondered if it was his attempt to soothe her or if it was for him.

“He’s in there because of me. I have to go,” she whispered. “I know what I’m facing there. I know the guards and the Captain…” she shivered at the thought of him. The last and only meeting she had with the man he had said if she wasn’t being pardoned he would have considered it his life’s greatest accomplishment to break her. He was likely thinking the same thing of Damon. She could see that look in his eye when he smiled down at Damon and ordered the lashings.

“No, definitely not. I won’t allow it.” Daric let go of her hand to throw an arm around her back. He gripped her hard and pulled. Gwen fought not to cry out but the noise escaped her lips. He wrenched his arm back away from her and gripped her hand again. “Anyone with eyes can see it terrifies you. I won’t send you back there.” He brought her hand to his lips. “And you have that party in your honor you should be thinking about. Have you thought about wearing a gown? I know you have your costume but perhaps something a little more in Court fashion for this sort of thing.”

“Keiran, I have to go,” Gwen turned away from Daric to face Alonox’s Chosen. He would see sense. “I know what he’s going through. I know his pain. I know how to help him recover. I know how to help him.”

“We sent for you. We know how to help him too,” Daric squeezed her hand to get her attention.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Gwen felt the words leave her mouth. “I was told to bathe in cold salt water with open wounds, in front of the two army sergeants you sent to retrieve me. I was given clothes that itched and rubbed my skin raw. I was chained to a bunk in a ship with no one telling me why or where I was going. Yes, that’s how the Crown sends for people from Faserlaeh.” 

Gwen felt the pains starting to lessen. She was sure that the pains were all in her head. Her shirt wasn’t tacky with the blood she knew would have come from the open wounds a whip made. And while she felt like she had those open wounds, her shirt remained clean. Ameia wouldn’t be able to help her when she arrived. Only time would do that.

“Gwen’s right, we didn’t send for her properly,” Keiran shook his head. “Alright, Gwen, if I let you go. _If_ I send you back to Faserlaeh, though it’s against my better judgement as well, what do you need?”


	6. Chapter 6

“Gwen, we need to talk about this,” Elden sat across from her at the table. 

No one else bothered to look up. It was the tenth time they had had this conversation since dinner had started. This exact conversation sparked more conversations. She glanced around at everyone else and saw Gavril hiding a smile along with Nic. Keiran was working hard to look anywhere but at her and Elden. Only Daric met her eyes.

“I’m going and you’re staying here,” Gwen stated calmly.

“You need someone to go with you. You need a guard,” Daric threw in his oar.

“I do not. I have control of my power now,” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“I said I go where you go,” Elden informed her. “You are not to leave this room without me.”

“And I will be protected. You can go with me to the harbor and then you can meet me there when I come back. I’ll be safe on the ship and I’ll only be off the ship in Faserlaeh for an hour or two at most. I’m contained. Even Damon said I didn’t need to be watched by a guard on a ship,” Gwen threw the last point to Daric who seemed to think Elden had the right of things.

“I don’t want you going into that place alone,” Daric frowned at her. “Your power might be in control now but Faserlaeh will bind your power. The stones will bind your power inside and you won’t be able to do anything. They’re going to see a vulnerable, beautiful, young woman and take advantage of you.”

Gwen looked up at Daric. Since they had started these conversations the afternoon before, he had become more and more protective of her. He kept looking for reasons to touch her and get close to her. He kept inviting himself to spend time with her. It was beyond starting to get annoying.

“It won’t bind my power,” Gwen sighed. “The runes have no control over the power of the Gods.”

“You survived that entire time without them realizing you still had your power?” Keiran joined the conversation again, his eyes intent on her.

“It was life or death keeping it in,” Gwen shrugged. “I locked it down and locked it away. And honestly I wished it would just go away after what I had done.” She spared a glance to Gavril. “You haven’t had anything to say for this whole ‘you can’t go alone conversation’. I’m a bit surprised.”

“Well, that’s simply because I know it’s pointless to argue with you right now,” Gavril offered her a sunny smile. “You’re leaving in the morning.” He tilted his chair back. “Would you like me to tell you that I’d like to go for emotional support if anything else? To help you wrestle Damon back into bed when he tries to get up and walk around while he’s in need of rest for healing? To maybe help you drag Damon out of there if he can’t walk that distance anymore? To make sure you don’t walk into a nightmare alone and come out alone if we are too late?” He let the chair fall back onto all four legs. “Those would be my arguments _if_ I were arguing with you. But it’s pointless to argue with you right now when you have had your mind made up that you are going alone.”

“Alright, you can come,” she looked to her cup of tea in front of her. He had made better points than she needed someone to physically protect her. “Does that satisfy everyone?”

“Yes,” Keiran grinned and went back to eating.

“No,” Elden and Daric both shouted over him. “I need to go with you, Gwen,” Elden continued on.

“I don’t want you to go at all,” Daric added.

“I’m going and Gavril is the only man I’ll allow with me. Unless of course, Nic has objections and then I will let Gavril make a decision on that front.” Gwen stood and pushed her plate away. “I have some packing to do.”

“I’ll be staying behind, Gwen,” Nic stood. “I have no desire to go anywhere near Faserlaeh after the stories I’ve heard come out of there. I trust you and Gavril to watch out for each other.”

“You know we will,” Gavril stood. “I had best finish my packing then.”

“Finish?” Gwen turned to look at him.

“Keiran had them set aside a room for me on the ship when he organized transport yesterday,” Gavril grinned at her. “Neither of us were about to let you go alone. Make sure you get us that pardon,” he turned to Daric. When Daric nodded Gavril and Nic left, likely to finish his packing and say their goodbyes.

“You’re sneaky,” Gwen turned to Keiran. “I think you and Edith could be friends if you had a mind to be.”

“We talk from time to time when it suits her,” Keiran reached over to grasp her hand. “I retrieved these from Damon’s rooms this morning.” He turned her hand over to place her leather bracelets in them. “I also found a bottle of your perfume. I returned that to your vanity.”

“My perfume?” She frowned. “Why in Solreth’s name would he have that?”

“Perhaps it was left behind in his quick packing. He seemed to be gathering up your things that didn’t quite make it to the ship with you,” Keiran shrugged. “Or perhaps he stole it to try and make sure he had some part of you still with him.”

“You’re right, it was probably left out of the packing and he was just going to return it,” Gwen rolled her eyes at Keiran. Ever since he and Ameia started to be more open about their courtship, he was seeing romance everywhere. Gwen didn’t know if that was simply Keiran happily in love or the long term effects of being exposed to Eiannae’s Chosen. “Are you coming with me to see Ameia?” Gwen changed the subject before he started having her and Damon betrothed and wedded in his mind.

“What are you going to Ameia for? I thought both you and she said those injuries were in your mind,” Daric eyed her ribcage. It still ached slightly, along with the rest of her back and chest, but Ameia had come and confirmed that physically nothing had been wrong.

“She’s going to teach me what I need to know to make sure Damon’s injuries are cared for,” Gwen moved towards the door. 

“What injuries?” Daric frowned.

“His broken ribs for one,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “And anything else he might have broken since then. I can’t begin to guess what else they might break if he continues to bait them.”

“I’ll come with you. You can use me to practice on,” Keiran teased. “I know Ameia will likely make you try and wrap someone’s ribs to make sure you have it down. She’s practical that way.” A particular little twinkle entered his eye as he talked about Ameia and her practical nature.

Gwen nearly snorted. Ameia’s goddess encompassed beauty and femininity in all aspects. Anything Ameia hand her hands in became beautiful in the eyes of others. She spent much of her free time arranging flowers and redecorating her rooms. As far as Gwen was concerned, it was the least practical thing to do with her time. But Keiran was right, when it came to being a healer she was practical in her own way.

“Well, let’s go Lover Boy,” Gwen nodded to the door. “Elden? Or are you going to stay here and complain with Daric a while longer.”

“I’m coming. You know my complaint on this is not unreasonable. I’m the Sergeant of your Guard. I need to make sure you are protected.” Elden sighed.

“You can inspect the ship and the crew tomorrow before I board. How does that sound?” Gwen tried.

“You don’t respect me.”

“No one ever accused me of being respectful,” Gwen retorted. “Now, I’m going to Ameia’s rooms, whoever is coming.”

The next morning they arrived at the harbor two hours before midday. They had left the palace well before the sun rose in order to get there early enough to be out before the midday meal. Gavril and Elden went on board the Royal Charter ship that Daric had insisted on when Keiran had gone to make the request.

Daric himself had even gotten up early to escort them down along with Gavril’s men, her men, and Keiran. His own squad would be returning to the palace in short order now that he had sent for them. They would likely arrive before Gwen returned with Damon and she hoped they would be there to greet him. In the Royal Guard, a good squad became like family to each other. Brothers in Duty and Brothers in Arms. She understood that because it was the same way Gavril and Keiran were like brothers to her.

“I can’t talk you out of sending Gavril alone?” Daric asked quietly when she went to check her trunk one last time.

“I’ve already made my point a hundred times, but what’s one more? I need to go, Daric. I need to make right what I can. He’s there because he protected me.” She turned to face Daric and saw that look of desire in her eyes again. She hated it, and she hated that he now followed her everywhere with it.

“I know,” he sighed. “I just can’t stand that you’re going to be gone for a month, and you’re going to Faserlaeh of all places.” He shuddered.

“Nothing will keep me from going,” Gwen informed him.

“Then take this,” he reached out to place a small leather pouch in her hand. “So you know I’m thinking of you and waiting for your return. Don’t open it now. I want this to be between just me and you,” he closed her fingers over the soft leather and she felt something hard inside.

Daric glanced around quickly and then his arms went around her waist to pull her in against him. Gwen looked around too and found no one was looking at them. No one was coming to her rescue. Not even Keiran who seemed to be distracted by talking to the Captain of the ship.

“I’m going to miss you, My Love,” Daric whispered and he closed the distance between them completely. His lips founds hers and he began what she assumed was a passionate kiss, but all she could do was stand there. Wasn’t he finished yet? How long could he possibly kiss her like this?

“Eh hem,” Elden cleared his throat next to them. She felt Daric grin against her lips and then his attempts to kiss her slowed and eventually he pulled back grinning at her.

“I’m going to miss you. I’ll be here when you return.” Daric slowly let his arms drop from around her until Elden was able to pull her from his grasp. Elden pulled her a little ways away before he grinned down at her.

“I’m not sure you’re aware of this because you were tucked away from normal socializing for so long, but when a man kisses you like that, you’re supposed to kiss back,” Elden’s voice was soft.

“What if I don’t want him to kiss me in the first place?” She asked, her voice just as quiet.

“He’s the Crowned Prince. Why wouldn’t you want him to be kissing you so? Every other woman in the kingdom would kill to have him giving this sort of attention,” Elden turned to straightening her shirt.

“I’m not every other woman in the kingdom. I don’t want his attention,” she pushed Elden off and tugged at the collar of her shirt.

“Well, if anything you’d think he’d have noticed you weren’t enjoying yourself,” Elden sighed. “I’m sure _he_ knows kissing should be two sided.” He waited a moment and then lowered his voice further. “Is it all men or just His Highness? From what I’ve heard, Faserlaeh would make you wary of men.”

“It’s all men,” she responded. She didn’t want Daric’s attention or any other man’s.

“Not even Damon’s?” Elden asked his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Damon would never think to try,” she responded. It was true. Damon had been her guard and therefore there would never be anything more than friendship between them. It was his own rule and she could see the practicality in it. 

“Alright, well, it’s time for you to go.” Elden hugged her tight for a moment. “I’m still your brother. You can tell me anything, you know. And if you want me to tell His Highness to leave you alone, I will.”

“Of course. Don’t let anyone mess up my workshop or room while I am gone,” she chided. “I’m depending on you.”

Gavril came for her then and she stopped to hug Keiran and wave to the rest of the men she knew well before boarding the ship with him. 

Her room was one that faced out the back of the ship with glass windows across the entire back wall. A double bed took up the center of the room while a desk, table, dining chairs, wardrobe, and two armchairs took up the rest of the space. A privy was off one side of the room and held a linen lined tub large enough to hold someone of Gavril’s size.

“Do you think it will work for us?” Gavril asked quietly.

“Us?” She turned to look at him and then around to see his trunk next to hers.

“I’m not leaving you alone in this. I’ll move to my room when it becomes necessary, but right now, you have barely slept in two months. The only time Keiran has induced sleep on you, you’ve woken up injured in a way we can’t fix. And I can tell it still pains you every once and a while. So I’m not leaving you alone. We can share the bed for now, like we did in Port Tythrenn.” Gavril turned her to face him. “You can trust me.” 

“Trusting you is not the issue,” she sighed. “When do you think it will become necessary to switch rooms?”

“When you have Damon to watch over. I thought, and Keiran thought, that you might prefer to have him in here with you.” Gavril cupped her cheek. “You didn’t seem all that receptive to Daric’s kissing.”

“He didn’t seem to notice.” Gwen fought a grin.

“I think he’s hoping you we’re just in in shock. He’s been trying to court you for some time.” Gavril let her go and turned to walk out of the door. “Let’s go wave goodbye. I’m sure none of them will leave until the ship is well out of view.”

“I don’t want to be courted,” Gwen complained as they walked back out onto the deck. 

“When I first came to court I had my pick of the women. I could choose any lady I wanted and she would have been mine unless she was holding out for Daric. But I didn’t find any of them attractive. The time I spent around women that were trying to flirt was exhausting. I didn’t feel right kissing and I couldn’t wait for them to just be done and go away.” Gavril leaned on the railing.

Gwen stared at him. He was describing how she felt about Daric and his flirting almost exactly.

“Then I realized how close I was growing to Nic. I wanted to spend time with him. I wanted his compliments. And when he finally got up the nerve to kiss me, because Solreth knows I was too afraid, it felt right. I wanted to kiss back.” He glanced at her. “What I’m saying is, Daric’s not the right person for you and you know it. I don’t think you have doubts about that but I want you to know that if you come across that right person, it’ll make sense. And he, or she, will take into consideration all you’ve gone through and make sure you are comfortable with where the two of you are.” He started to wave as the ship separated from the dock and started to drift away from it. On the shoreline she could see Nic waving back.

“Did you like women before you were Blessed?” Gwen asked.

“I wasn’t interested. My father and mother just thought that I hadn’t found the right woman.” Gavril grinned.

“Have you told them about Nic?” Gwen asked.

“Yes. They don’t understand, but they are happy that I am loved and love. And that, My Sweet Gwen, is all of the happiness that I could wish for you.”

“Maybe someday,” she shrugged and turned to look at the sails now that they were far enough from the docks. “Do you think the Captain will mind if I try and help us get out of the harbor faster?”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Gavril glanced at her.

“By doing a little something like this,” she reached down inside of herself and concentrated hard. She knew where the power to the wind rested inside of her and gave it a small pull. She imagined it filling the sails, tugging the ship in the right direction. 

“Well look at that!” Gavril was grinning at her when she opened her eyes. “You did well.” She looked up to see the sails were filled with wind and the ship was already speeding away from the docks. It was her first deliberate use of her power that had actually worked. It gave her a bit of hope. She turned to wave to those they were leaving behind along with Gavril.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Damon

The walls were gray. The ceiling that he stared at above his head was gray. The stone bench he laid on was gray. The man on the stone bench across from him was gray. He wanted color. He craved color. How had Gwen survived four years in this gray pit?

But it wasn’t just the gray that was driving him insane. It was the two hours they were allowed to sleep. It was the shackles that cut into his wrists that never came off, ever. It was the fractions of tasteless, gray food that they were allowed. It was the scent of blood in the air. It was the sounds of whips cracking and lead cored batons breaking bones. It was the pain in his torso from his broken ribs. It was the way the burlap shirt he wore stuck and pulled at the newly scabbed over whip marks on his chest and back.

Gods he knew better than to push the Captain like he had. He should have kept his mouth shut and his head down, but pride had pushed him to argue. The argument had been simply about what had brought him here. He had questioned the Captain’s loyalty to the King if he was hanging by the purse strings of the High Priest of Solreth in Port Tythrenn. He had gone as far as to call it treason in itself.

It had earned him sixty lashes and at least two broken ribs. It was worth the look of panic that had filled the Captain’s eyes for half a second. That alone told him the Captain was likely aware he wasn’t a mage and that his charges were false. 

But then again, his charges weren’t false. He had been charged with protecting Variel’s interests by protecting her Blessed. He might not have been protecting Variel’s interests, but he had protected Gwen and he would admit he was guilty of that. If given the choice to go back and stop himself from putting her on that ship back to Oleryn when the High Priest had called for her execution, he would have gone back and made sure to get her there twice as fast. He didn’t regret protecting her at all. He didn’t even argue that he was guilty of the charges. He only argued that he wasn’t a mage and his charges weren’t worthy of treason.

“Man, get some sleep,” his cellmate groaned. “You don’t want to waste good sleep time.”

“Why do you care?” Damon glanced over at the man. He was older, likely in his forties, and had been charged for using his magic to disguise poisons as health tinctures. He claimed to be responsible for the deaths of forty-five people and had utterly no remorse. 

“When you’re around the guards focus on you and not me,” the man wheezed out a laugh. “I have a chance of being the longest surviving prisoner if you last a while.”

“You have a ways to go before you hit that record,” Damon sighed. “The longest living prisoner of Faserlaeh lasted four years.”

“Four years and someone would waste away from lack of food,” the man scoffed.

“She very truly survived four years.” How? He asked himself again. The beatings, the lack of food, the fact she had only been little more than fourteen years old when she had arrived. He hated to think she had been tied to those pillars, whipped for the amusement of the guards and to show dominance of the guards to the prisoners. He hated to think she had watched others be beaten to death with the same indifference he was beginning to feel. He hated thinking that at the age of fourteen, or fifteen, or sixteen, or seventeen, or eighteen that she was here learning what monsters men were when they felt desire and were told they could have free reign. How many guards had forced themselves on her? How had she gone on for four years like that?

“I think you’re making stuff up. Like you made up being a sergeant in the Royal Guard at the palace. The Crowned Prince’s best friend. That’s laughable,” the man wheezed out another laugh.

Damon turned his attention back to the ceiling. He hoped that Daric was looking for him. He hoped someone was looking for him. Something told him they were. Some little voice kept telling him to hold on.

He considered himself lucky. He may have been whipped and had a couple of broken ribs, but no guards wanted to remove him from the line to be a play toy. He was still too muscular for them to want to move him away from the others alone. The thought made him smile inside. He rivaled many of the guards in muscle mass and height. The mages didn’t usually reach his size. They spent more time on mental strengthening that physical strengthening. If Damon wanted he could have knocked a guard or two on their backs while both of his hands were shackled, but there were always more guards and he was trapped on this cursed island. So for now he waited.

“Get up!” The guards called in the hallway outside of the cell and Damon got to his feet as fast as he dared. He couldn’t wrap his ribs to keep them in place but he could rest them when he had a chance. At least the guards gave enough warning from the other end of the hall that he could be standing at waiting by the time they reached his cell.

“Ah, still not broken,” one of the guards leered in at him when he came to the door.

“Nah, he’s still waiting for his prince,” another cackled. “You’ll wait forever,” he informed Damon.

Damon didn’t care what they thought. If he gave up hope, he gave up the small glimmer of light in this dark place. Daric would find him. He’d get home. He’d report the High Priest of Solreth to King Alaric and make sure that he took down the members of the Tythrenn Watch that had arrested him. He’d take down the Captain at Faserlaeh for taking a prisoner that was not in need of Faserlaeh.

How hard had it been for Gwen? She had had no one. Her own brother had arrested her. She had had no hope that anyone was ever coming for her. What had kept her going in this place? She was the strongest person he knew. He knew if he ever had the chance to face her again, he’d tell her such. He needed to believe someone was coming for him to keep pushing forward, but she had done it on nothing.

“Did you see they just brought in a couple new female prisoners? Sisters that tried to assassinate a high ranking noble and failed. They are both quite pretty still,” the guards turned to talking to each other about how they planned to defile both women and make them both suffer as much as possible.

Damon hated those conversations. They always made him think of Gwen and how she didn’t like to wear skirts or gowns because she felt vulnerable. They made him think of how she’d likely never trust a man in her bed. They made him think of Daric, and what Daric had told Damon his plans for Gwen were. Gwen wouldn’t want to be Queen of Dovania. She wouldn’t want to do anything of the sort. 

As he started the dragging walk to wherever they were going to work this time, he let his eyes drift down to the floor. The real torture of this place was simply that everything made him think of Gwen and all of it explained her a little bit more.


	7. Chapter 7

Gwen felt the exact moment that they entered the sea wall that surrounded Faserlaeh. It brought a bone deep chill to the air and took the color of the darkness from the room. Never before had she thought darkness had color. She had been laying in the bed next to Gavril as he slept. She hadn’t been sleeping, even with him around, but she had appeased him by resting in the bed while he slept. She shivered when the chill went through the air and immediately Gavril sat up.

“What’s wrong? Are you cold? Your blanket is in your trunk. I can grab it,” he shifted to get out of the bed and then paused as he looked around. “We’re here aren’t we?” His shifted back into the bed and his warm arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against him. “I can go in alone. You don’t have to come with.”

It was the same offer he had been making for the past two weeks once he discovered she still wouldn’t sleep well even with him around. The same thoughts always went through her head. She imagined Gavril going in to get Damon alone, without her, and Damon finding her cowering on the ship. He would see she was a coward and go back and report it to Daric. Daric would believe he was right for not wanting to send her and he’d never let her leave the palace again if he had a mind to keep her around.

“Gwen, really, I can do this alone,” Gavril hugged her close.

“No. I need to do this. I know who I’m dealing with. I know this place,” she shuddered and Gavril’s arms tightened. “I am not a coward and if I don’t do this, Daric will never take me seriously again.”

“No one would think you are a coward. No one at all,” Gavril promised her.

“I’d think I was a coward,” Gwen admitted with a sigh. “I did this to Damon. I need to fix it,” she sat up. “What time would you guess it is?”

“Maybe two hours until dawn,” Gavril sat up too. “We won’t leave the ship until after dawn.” 

Gavril gripped her shoulder and pushed her back down when she stood up. She heard him rummage around for a few moments before he returned and tucked something soft around her shoulders. She couldn’t see the color of the blanket but she knew by the feel of it that it was her green one. One of the mage lights came to life and Gavril put an arm around her shoulder. In his other hand he held one of her herb books.

“Elder, we use the bark, leaves, flowers, and berries. Elder is bitter, pungent, has a diuretic and an anti-mucus effect. The leaves and bark are used topically to heal minor burns and chilblains. The flowers are used to heal sore eyes, irritated or inflamed skin, ulcers of the mouth, and minor injuries. The bark and leaves may also be used to lower a fever. The fruit is used for pain relief and as a laxative.” 

Gwen settled against his shoulder to listen. Gavril wasn’t much of a reader, having learned after coming to the palace nearly four years before. It showed as he struggled over pronouncing the harder words. But she didn’t care. She knew this herb book by heart. If Gavril wanted help with the words, he’d ask. But for now he was struggling through the words to distract her and to put her in a place in her mind where she was comfortable.

When the sky lightened outside of the window, Gavril set the book down and hugged her tight before he stood and put on his boots to go check with the crew for what was going on. Gwen took the opportunity to change into a thick tunic and fuller breeches that hid her figure and gave her some warmth.

“Well, we’ll be allowed off of the ship in half an hour,” Gavril came back. “I’d suggest a coat too. It’s chilly and I don’t want you freezing on the walk.”

“Do we have a cloak or a coat for Damon?” Gwen looked to the third trunk that sat untouched in their room. It was the trunk that someone had taken the time to pack for Damon. It held clothes mostly. She hadn’t dared open it to find out what else it might hold.

“I’m sure we do. Why don’t you check while I get changed?” He nodded to the trunk. “I doubt Keiran put anything in there that would bite you.”

“Right,” she approached the trunk and knelt down in front of it. The key sat in the lock waiting to be turned. Knowing that Gavril was watching her, she fought back her nerves and twisted the key until she heard the lock click.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to open the trunk simply because she didn’t want to know more about Damon in this fashion. Delving into his personal belongings without him seemed invasive. She doubted he’d give her permission to dig in his belongings if he was standing in the room with them.

“Gwen?” Gavril asked.

“He never gave me permission to go through his things,” she explained.

“He’ll forgive you,” he chuckled. “I’m sure he’d rather be warm than ensure you don’t see his clean loincloths.” Gwen smiled too but her hand still wouldn’t push the lid open. “What else, Gwen?” Gavril came to stand next to her, his large hand coming to rest next to hers on the lid.

“What if,” she stopped to swallow a lump that had formed in her throat. “What if Damon is dead. What if we go in there and he isn’t alive anymore?” She asked.

“Well,” Gavril tipped the lid open. “We bring his things back to the palace and then we petition Daric to allow you to go with to return his things to Terrowyn because I know you’ll want to. But that’s a different matter from the one at hand. The matter at hand is it is cold outside and there should be a coat or a cloak in here for Damon when we do find him.”

“Why are you always so positive?” She demanded.

“Someone has to balance out your doom and gloom,” he teased.

“I’m just being practical. I know what’s in there. I know what very likely could have happened. You don’t know that Captain. You don’t know those guards. You don’t know how hopeless it is,” she stopped when Gavril pulled her away from the trunk.

“I’ll get his cloak. You sit here and compose yourself. Next time, my Sweet, all you have to say is that you are afraid of what memories this might stir up,” he kissed her temple.

“I knew what memories Faserlaeh would stir up,” she grumbled. “I’ve only been free of here for less than a year.”

“I meant the memories of Damon you might have to face looking through his things, not of this place. Anyone with eyes can see he means something to you. You’re struggling with the thought of how this is going to hurt you if, in an hour, we find out Damon doesn’t get to come home with us. I can understand that.” He turned back to the trunk and began to dig through it. “Here, I can trust you to hold the pardon.” He handed a scroll dripping in seals to her.

She took the scroll and held it. It was much like the one sent for her. How one little piece of paper had changed her life so drastically. And it was all based on the whims of King Alaric, Daric, and Keiran. They could grant freedom to anyone they wanted and they could easily take it away. That was more terrifying than what she was about to face.

“The crew is all happily gossiping about the winds somehow being in our favor from the time we left Oleryn to when we arrived. It seemed that every now and then a favorable gust would speed us along. We arrived here a day ahead of schedule,” Gavril winked at her as he rolled Damon’s cloak up under his arm.

“Good, I hope I bought him a little more time and a few less injuries,” Gwen stood. “I’d like to stand on deck.”

“We still have a few minutes,” Gavril warned her.

“I’d like to be ready.” She managed to pull herself up to her full height though she wanted to curl into a small ball. She managed to walk out of the room onto the deck though she wanted to hide in the privy until they left. She managed to give a confident smile to the crew though she felt anything but. And when the gangplank was finally lowered onto the docks, she managed to walk down without stumbling.

When she had arrived at Faserlaeh at the age of fourteen, she had barely been able to walk. The week long journey chained to a hard bench on the ship had left her legs cramped. She had stunk of old fish and saltwater. The guards had whipped her immediately for not walking fast enough. The shackles her brought had placed on her had been removed for the tighter ones of Faserlaeh. Then she had been brought before the Captain to be assigned her room and told what was expected of her until her death.

Gavril took her arm to bring her back to the present and she held her chin up hoping she looked like she knew what she was doing as they walked along the road up to the plain stone fortress that held the center of the small island. Guards admitted them through the main doors and she felt them eye her as they passed, but Gavril’s size was discouraging to even brutes like these men.

“The Captain, please,” Gavril looked to the guards waiting inside of the door.

“He’s not in his office yet,” one of them snorted. “You’re early and the Captain likes to sleep late.”

“Well, it’s best to go wake him,” Gavril gave the man a look that made even Gwen want to follow orders. “If I were him I wouldn’t want to keep Solreth’s Blessed and the Twice Blessed waiting.”

Gwen heard the whisper of ‘Solreth’s Blessed’ and ‘Twice Blessed’ go to the other guards.

“Right, I’ll inform him of your presence,” one of the guards bowed and turned to trot back out the front door.

“The guards and the Captain sleep in residences outside of the prison. The rumor was the Captain is given a house upon his arrival that is furnished comfortably enough that the runes of the island matter less,” Gwen murmured to Gavril. He nodded confirmation he had heard her.

“What a shame that two Blessed, sent by King Alaric himself, are left standing in a hallway while the person in charge is being woken to do his duties on time,” Gavril’s voice carried down the hallway. 

Gwen looked to him to see him wink at her. He likely had learned too much from Keiran in their friendship. But it worked as only a few moments later, they were being shown into a room with a few wooden chairs.

“Cozy,” Gavril commented.

“For Faserlaeh, it is,” Gwen shivered. 

“You have the pardon?” Gavril asked after a few silent moments.

“I do,” Gwen didn’t sit in a chair. She continued to stand even after Gavril sat. “I want to take point.”

“I expect you to,” Gavril offered his hand to her. She held it for a moment. If she couldn’t face the Captain, Gavril would step in. But for the time being, she was in charge of this rescue.

“The Captain is ready to see you now,” a guard came to the door and bowed.

“After you,” Gavril stood and bowed to Gwen in the most noble manner. She knew it was his way of showing the guard who was in charge. They followed the guard a short distance down the hall before they stopped in front of a polished plaque that stated the Captain’s name: Richard Thad. Below it was a list of military accomplishments but her eyes stayed on the name. It was such a normal name for a man like him.

In the office she laid eyes on the man that had told her less than a year before that he would have considered breaking her his greatest accomplishment. Only a little over a week before, she had watched him assign extra lashings to Damon and break Damon’s ribs with a smile on his face. He enjoyed this job. He enjoyed the power and the torturing of people.

“My Lord, My Lady, how can this humble Captain of Faserlaeh be of service to you?” Captain Richard stood to bow to both of them. She forced the emotion from her face. She didn’t need him to see her disbelief at his overly polite tone or calling himself humble.

“We seek a prisoner that was brought here,” Gwen held out the pardon. “He is to be released immediately per order of the King.” Her voice remained strong but she didn’t let the relief at her ability to maintain her strength in front of this man show on her face either.

Captain Richard took the scroll and broke the wax seals to unroll it. He read for a few moments and then went to the door. He showed the guards the number and they left.

“They are going to check for your prisoner,” Captain Richard assured them. “Perhaps you’d like to have a seat while you wait. I’d offer you a bit of tea but I don’t believe what we have here is something you’d enjoy.” He smiled, inviting them to do the same. “My Lady, you look strikingly familiar.” He commented after a moment.

“She is the Twice Blessed,” Gavril commented. “I’m sure you saw her likeness on the notices His Majesty, King Alaric, sent out.”

Gwen fought the urge roll her eyes. King Alaric’s messengers that had gone out to herald the news to the far corners of the realm had carried drawings of her likeness and some amazing story of the gods choosing her. It had already been given to the messengers by the time Keiran had brought her one to see.

“I’m not sure that’s it,” Captain Richard frowned at her. She was not a walking skeleton anymore. She had fat and muscle filling her body out. She was still small, but she was healthy. She was no longer coated in the grime of Faserlaeh. She wasn’t dead eyed waiting for the day she finally gave up or the beat her out of her will to live. She hoped he wouldn’t recognize her now.

“Captain,” a guard at the door made Gwen turn to look. She expected him to have Damon at his side, but there was no one else. Captain Richard went to the door and whispered with the guard for a few moments before he turned back to her and Gavril.

“I am so sorry but your prisoner has died. It does happen here,” he spread his hands in front of him, a gesture of apology. “The conditions of Faserlaeh are designed to speed along the process of death for those that receive their sentence here. It seems your prisoner was simply another death for the day, this morning.”

“Perhaps we could have his body then. To return to the King,” Gwen looked up at Captain Richard. Inside her mind was ripped into pieces. Damon was dead. He was dead and she was too late. But another part of her mind pushed past the sorrow and somehow took the lead. It was calm. “If you could take us to where the bodies are held, we can identify him on our own. It would be no trouble to Lord Gavril and myself.” She nodded back to Gavril.

“I’m sorry. But his body has already been taken to the incinerator,” Captain Richard smiled at her. “And, My Dear, I recognize you now. How are you enjoying your freedom 8097?”

“I’ll enjoy it much better once you allow Lord Gavril and myself a chance to make sure that our prisoner is truly dead. You won’t mind us going to check,” she started towards the door but the Captain grabbed her arm to stop her, his hold bruising her arm under her shirt.

“I’d let go of her if you don’t want to be marked as a traitor yourself,” Gavril’s voice was quiet and deadly. “His Royal Highness, Prince Daric would awfully upset if something were to happen to his sweetheart. He might even dare to call it treason.” The grip on her arm lessened immediately.

“I am sorry, but it’s unfitting for you to be walking around the prison,” Captain Richard forced out of gritted teeth.

“ _I_ am sorry you feel that way, but we are required to bring back our prisoner or undeniable proof that he is dead. If you’ll excuse me, we are going to search the prison.” Gwen pulled her arm from Captain Richard’s much loosened grasp. Even the part of her filled with sorrow had quieted. She didn’t believe Damon was dead. She did believe this man wanted her to believe that Damon was dead. Even if he had sent his guards to kill Damon, his body would still be there.

She stepped out into the hall with Gavril at her back. She turned down the hall that led to the stairway that led to where the prisoners were. She remembered that much from her time there. Captain Richard dodged out after them.

“I cannot allow you to go any further!” He snapped.

“You can and will,” Gwen turned to look at him and saw the baton in his hand as he rushed forward with it. Gavril’s reflexes were faster than hers as he stepped between them to receive the sharp rap on the arm from the lead cored baton. It didn’t faze Gavril in the least as he gripped Captain Richard’s jacket and lifted him from the ground to be at eye level.

“It’s an act of treason to attack a Blessed,” Gavril gave Captain Richard a menacing smile. “Lady Gwendolyn and I will be searching for our prisoner. You will return to your office and you will stay there until after we leave. Any of your men that try and stop us will have her to face,” Gavril nodded back to Gwen. “I’m the nice one, and I just saved your life.” He dropped Captain Richard and sent him running back to his office. “You’d better come up with something should he decide to try and test that theory,” Gavril added to her, his voice quiet once more.

“I’m ready now,” she was too. While Gavril threatened Captain Richard, she had been tapping into her power. She wouldn’t hurt anyone if she didn’t have to. But she would do whatever it took to get Damon back.

“What makes you want to search for him?” Gavril asked as they walked towards the stairs.

“They run the incinerator once a week at most. The bodies get piled up and it becomes a job for one group to throw the bodies in. They wouldn’t send a fresh corpse into the incinerator. They like to make sure the body is starting to decompose before the prisoners have to touch their fallen fellows.” She started up the stairs. “I will search until I find him but I’m going to tell you now, I have no idea where I’m going once we get past the women’s area.”

“Understandable,” Gavril took her hand. “Solreth guide us,” he whispered.

Gwen felt something inside of her pull at Gavril’s prayer. Then after a moment she felt that pull twist and start to tug her like an invisible hand pulling her around the middle. Of course Solreth would guide them now. They were both his Blessed and he had said he was watching over Damon. She doubted Damon knew he was so special to the god he worshipped so devoutly.

“I can feel it too,” Gavril whispered before she could ask. She smiled because it was better to have two people feeling the same pull than just one.

They followed it up the stairs, down one hall, up another flight of stairs, down another hall, down a flight of stairs. If Gwen didn’t know the place better she would think they were being led in a circle chasing their tails. But she knew the place was designed to make someone think that way. 

They crossed no guards, but she didn’t expect to in the maze of deserted gray stone halls. They would all be with the prisoners or in their barracks. The prisoners were either locked in their cells or tied to a line of other prisoners. The only exceptions included being at the mercy of a guard, summoned before Captain Richard, or attached to the posts in the whipping area. Escape was nearly impossible. Those that did try never made it more than a hallway in before the much more in shape guards caught them. Those that did try to escape lived only long enough to regret the decisions.

“This way,” she pulled on Gavril’s hand to take him with her though she knew he could feel the pull telling them where they were going too. She felt a sense of urgency overtake her. They needed to get to Damon fast.

They rounded a corner a Gwen gasped out as a sudden blinding pain caught her across her face and then the arm the threw up to protect her face. She felt the bone crack as she lashed out with wind. The guard in front of her flew back and hit the wall with a hard thud. Gavril turned her to face him and she felt him gingerly touch the area around her eye. It was swelling shut already and she bet it would be one glorious black eye when it fully formed. Then he turned his attention to her arm but she pulled it away.

“We need to get to Damon. I’m fine,” she growled out through gritted teeth. She knew they both knew it was a lie, but Damon’s life was more important. Gavril’s arm went around her waist to support her.

“Make a shield with the wind. Wrap it around us like a cyclone,” Gavril whispered to her. Through her pain she managed to concentrate long enough to spin the winds around them. “Good,” he praised, letting her know her efforts had accomplished the task. “Let’s keep moving.” 

There were tears streaming out of her good eye and her teeth ached sharply from the punch to the face. Her arm gave sharp stabbing pains as they walked. Gavril steered her as they turned yet another corner. She heard someone shout as they bounced off of her wind barrier. The feeling of urgency increased. She pushed to move faster.

They rounded one more corner and Gavril stopped her short. Someone was laying on the ground on the other end of the room surrounded by three guards all holding batons. The tugging inside of her stopped and she realized that the figure on the ground was Damon.

“Hold!” Gavril used a battlefield shout that made her cringe. All three guards stopped with their batons still raised and turned to face Gavril. “That man has been pardoned by the King. You may not harm him anymore.”

“We do not take orders from you,” one of the guards chuckled.

“You may not, but you will take them from me,” Gwen stepped around Gavril and let a seed of lightning build in her good hand. She was surprised to see it glowing bluish purple in the gray of Faserlaeh but she didn’t let it show on her face. “You will leave him alone or I will make you wish you had listened to Solreth’s Chosen. Variel is far less reasonable than Solreth.”

One guard turned back to Damon and raised his baton up. Gwen unleashed a small amount of the lightning and it just touched the stone inches from his feet. He screamed and his fellow guards jumped. The batons dropped from their hands and they ran without another word.

“Keep that trick. You can use it to teach Daric to back off,” Gavril whispered in her ear.

“I think if I intentionally turn my power on Daric I’ll end up right back here,” she informed him as they hurried to Damon’s side.

Damon was unconscious when Gavril turned him onto his back. There was a line of darkness that dripped down and she guessed someone had cracked his head with the baton. She knelt down next to him and reached to his jaw to find the pulse under it. His skin was warm to her touch which was a good sign. Then she felt the pulsation of blood pumping through the vein in his neck. She turned to Gavril who unfolded the cloak from under his arm.

“I’ll carry him. You shield us with your wind. I think we’ll need to be prepared to get the ship moving out of the docks immediately. Do you think you can hold on long enough to give us a good burst out of the harbor?” Gavril knelt down next to Damon and wrapped him in the cloak before hefting him up.

“I will get us well away from this place,” Gwen promised. “Let’s move.”

Solreth’s guidance was waiting for them as they started to walk with Damon. She could feel the tug inside of her power directing her where to go as she concentrated on wrapping winds around them in a hurricane force cyclone. No one would be able to slip so much as a whip through her shield. 

They made it to the main floor with no one trying to stop them. Gwen almost thought they were going to be left alone until they turned out of the stairwell on the main floor to face twenty guards in rows and Captain Richard in front of them prepared for battle. Gwen lifted her good hand and let the Godsfyre build there. She didn’t have to look at it to see that it was colored purple and pink.

“This man is pardoned by the King of Dovania, King Alaric of Moardwyn. By not allowing us to leave with him in peace, I will ask her to unleash her Godsfyre as retribution for treason against His Majesty,” Gavril called. “Stand down or there won’t even be remains to send to your loved ones.”

Gwen watched as first one man, and then several waivered. She let the Godsfyre ball in her hand grow just a little more. The men in front broke and stepped aside. Their comrades followed in short order until only Captain Richard stood between them and the exit.

“Captain, she’ll incinerate you,” one of the men’s quiet whisper carried in the silent hall. Captain Richard glared at her, his body tense. She knew his mind enough already. He knew who she was. She had been pardoned out of his reach before he realized what he had had to play with. Now she was removing Damon from his grasp while taking his power away from him in front of his men. But she didn’t care. She hated him for what he had done to Damon.

“You’ve seen my records, Captain,” Gwen reminded him. “Are you sure you want to gamble on someone who has killed with fire before?” She wasn’t proud of her murders in Port Tythrenn that had taken place when the Temple of Solreth had burned with her Godsfyre, but he didn’t need to know that. Captain Richard stood still for a moment longer looking between the bright colored Godsfyre in her hand and Damon in Gavril’s arms before he stepped aside.

“We’ll need all copies of this man’s records,” Gavril informed the nearest guard. “And the keys for these shackles.” The guard went to get them at a sprint.

Less than twenty minutes later, they were back on board the ship with Damon. Once Gavril made sure all of the crew remained on board, he ordered the gangplank pulled up and for the men to be ready to sail.

“But we need to wait for the tide to go out,” the Captain of the ship reminded him.

“Raise the sails, Lady Gwendolyn will assist with getting us moving,” he nodded to Gwen who nodded back. “I’ll need a bath of fresh water brought to Lady Gwendolyn’s room at the soonest. The water should be comfortably warm to hot.” He turned away from the Captain to Gwen. “I’ll get him cleaned up and prepared for you. You make sure we get as far away from this island as possible.”

Gwen turned away from him and walked up to stand by the Captain at his wheel. The sails were being raised under his orders.

“Your arm is broken,” the Captain informed her as she came to stand by him.

“Yes,” she shrugged.

“Can you do whatever you need to do if I have someone set and bind your arm at the same time? It’s best not to let it bounce around too much,” the Captain signaled to someone on the deck below.

“I’d appreciate the help, thank you,” Gwen turned her attention to the sails. “Let me know when you are ready.” She sat down on deck, her legs finally giving out. They had Damon. He was alive. They were getting ready to head back. When the Captain gave her a nod, she turned her attention to calling the wind to the sails. They billowed under her watch and the ship lurched into motion. Yes, she had a broken arm. Yes, Damon was unconscious and probably very injured. But they had him and she was bringing him home.


	8. Chapter 8

Damon

He needed to wake up. He needed to get up because the guards would be coming around soon and he needed to be ready to stand up and face them. He needed to be ready to work. He wasn’t ready to die yet. He needed to wake up.

But the bed was too soft. The pillows under his head and the mattress under his body far too comfortable. The blanket tucked around him was far too soft. He was far too comfortably warm. The scent of orange peel and cinnamon in the air was soothing. He was simply far too comfortable to get up.

But he needed to wake up because none of those things made sense. There was no mattress on the hard stone bench he slept on. There was no pillow, no blanket, no comforting scents. There was little warmth in the air. There were certainly no good scents in the air.

A memory gripped him. Two guards forcibly hauling him from the line, dragging him down the hall with their batons telling him to stay silent. After ten minutes of standing with them, a third guard arrived and they all turned to attack him.

So he must have died. He must have been beaten to death on the floor and he was at Orvanus’ mercy. He hated himself for it. His body had given up before he was ready. He hadn’t gotten back to Daric. He hadn’t gotten back to Gwen. He had failed.

A sound like a knock on a door pulled him out of his self-loathing. He heard the sound of a book closing, then the whisper of fabric against fabric, the creak of wood, and footsteps heading towards where the original knocking sound had come from.

“My Lord, the Captain was hoping to ask for the Lady’s assistance in a matter on deck,” a young man’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“I’ll be honest with you,” the sunshine filled whisper sparked a thousand memories of taunting on the practice courts in Damon’s mind. “The Lady sleeps rarely, and I don’t have the heart to wake her now. When she wakes, on her own, I will send her to find the Captain.”

Damon forced his eyes to open as he heard the door close. If he was hearing Gavril’s voice then there was only one lady that would be accompanying him, and her presence would explain the enticing scent of orange peel and cinnamon.

He was in a bed, wrapped in a familiar green blanket that smelled faintly of Gwen’s perfume. The richness of the color surprised him. He had never noticed just how deep of a green the fabric of the blanket was. Looking at the ceiling above him he didn’t realize how rich of a tone wood had in its coloring. They were simple things but he drank them in. His eyes drifted to the windows that the bed faced and he saw the beautiful sea outside with a sky that held a gray tone that was still more colorful than anything he had seen at Faserlaeh.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Gavril’s warm voice was barely more than a whisper. Damon turned to look at him and saw him settling in to a light blue colored chair. Gavril’s bright smile made him smile.

“Took you long enough,” Damon teased.

“You didn’t make it easy,” Gavril informed him.

“How did you find me?” Damon shifted to try and sit up but Gavril leapt to his feet to lay a large hand on Damon’s shoulder to hold him down.

“Don’t move. If you move and wake her, I’ll have to hurt you a little more,” Gavril threatened. “This is the longest I’ve seen her sleep in two months. And, of course, she wouldn’t want you to upset any broken bones she’s bound up.”

Damon frowned at Gavril’s words until he looked around to the other side of the bed and caught sight of Gwen’s chestnut hair. Barely moving his head he could see she was sitting on the floor, curled against the bed, with her head resting on an arm just on the edge of the mattress.

“You let her sleep like that?” Damon turned his head back to Gavril.

“I let her sleep. If I move her to a more suitable place, she’ll wake and return to fussing over you and not rest herself,” Gavril informed him.

“You didn’t usher her to her bed when she started to pass out though?” Damon asked. Gavril quirked a smile but said nothing. “What?”

“She’s sleeping as close to her bed as she dare right now, since you are in it,” Gavril chuckled.

“This is her bed,” Damon repeated.

“Her bed,” Gavril repeated back. “You didn’t think she would go through so much trouble to track you down and reclaim you, and then not fuss over you once she got a hold of you, did you? I thought it would be best if you stayed where she could fuss over you without making her run across the ship every few minutes.” He stopped a moment and then set his book aside. “How are you feeling?”

Damon thought on his answer. Now that he was aware he wasn’t dead and the feeling of overwhelming comfort was slowly subsiding, he could feel where his body ached. His abdomen ached where his broken ribs were. There was a slight throbbing above his right temple. Various other areas on his arms and legs hurt.

“I feel like I was taken into a back hallway and beaten by three brutes with lead weighted batons,” Damon admitted.

“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about your mind. It seems to be working just fine,” Gavril settled back. “Gwen wrapped your ribs and your cracked skull. She’s been applying balms to your wounds and bruises and scars for the last two days. I’m impressed with her work. You will be too when she allows you out of bed.”

Damon glanced back at the burnished haired head resting on the mattress just out of his reach. It hadn’t passed him that Gavril had said she had gone through the trouble to track him down and reclaim him. And he would bet anything the balms she had been applying to him while he slept off a baton knock to the head came from her workshop. He had her to thank for everything.

The thoughts he had had of her when he had been in Faserlaeh plagued him again. How had she survived so long in that nightmare of a place? How had she faced that Captain? How had she brought herself to come back? Now he questioned how he could possibly leave her sleeping so uncomfortably. 

“Gavril,” Damon didn’t look back to Solreth’s Chosen. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Gavril assured him.

The last time he had laid eyes on the woman asleep against the bed, she had been unconscious due to fighting off her patron goddess, Variel. He had carried her to a ship just like this one and he had laid her down on a bed. The last time he had laid eyes on the woman asleep against the bed, he had dared to press his lips to her brow. 

“Move her so she can sleep on the bed. There’s space enough for her to sleep without even coming near me,” he continued to keep his eyes on Gwen and not on Gavril. He wouldn’t have minded sharing a smaller bed than this with her but he guessed she hadn’t fallen into the bed with him in order to keep away from him, either because of his injuries or out of dislike for sharing a bed with a man.

Gavril hadn’t answered him but he saw Gavril’s large arms shift under Gwen’s body and she was lifted up. The moment her head left the mattress she began to fuss.

“Hush, Sweet, I’m putting you to bed,” Gavril whispered. Damon’s eyes drifted to her left arm that was splinted, bandaged, and tied against her chest with a sling. “There we go. I’m guarding, we’re all safe,” Gavril continued to whisper to her as he laid her down on the bed. Her hair fell away from her face and Damon was stunned to see a large bruise covering her right eye. It was still swollen and looked very recent.

“What happened?” Damon asked with a slight nod towards her.

“We ran into a guard before we had any sort of shield up. I was letting Gwen lead,” Gavril sighed. “She took a baton to the arm and a fist to the face before she sent the man flying.”

“What about the balm she’s using on me? You said something about bruises. Won’t it help her?” Damon felt a bit of panic twist inside of him. She had been injured retrieving him.

“They would, but she won’t use them. She doesn’t want to waste what you might need,” Gavril reached over to tuck a different blanket around Gwen’s body. “Listen, you should get some rest. If you don’t think you can sleep, I have a draught here from Gwen that will knock you out for a few hours.”

“You’ll drug me but not her?” Damon felt a smile pull at his lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of angering her in any way. I saw her terrorize the guards at Faserlaeh to the point I think one of them actually wet himself,” Gavril grinned. “Do you think you can sleep or should I grab the draught?”

“I can sleep. Please don’t drug me.” Damon waited for Gavril to go sit back down and listened for him to open his book again. When he was sure that Gavril was distracted, he slowly reached a hand across the short distance to Gwen and brushed a fingertip across her cheek. 

She had faced coming back to Faserlaeh for him. She had been injured by the guards coming back for him. He would have given anything to have protected her from all of that. He wanted to protect her from the nightmares it would likely cause her. He wanted to protect her from the pain she was likely feeling from her arm and her eye. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable enough and slept well.

Suddenly Gavril was on Gwen’s side of the bed again, though Damon hadn’t heard him move at all. Very gently, Gavril moved Gwen closer and closer until her body was flush against Damon’s and her head was against his shoulder.

“Be gentle with her,” Gavril whispered. When Damon dared to look up afraid he would see Gavril ready to tease him, Gavril was leaving the room completely without looking back. Damon slipped his arm under and around her and settled her head against his chest. When he was sure she was still asleep, he closed his eyes and let the impossible comfort of the bed overtake him and bring him back to the realms of Alonox.

The next time Damon woke he was alone in the bed and Gwen wasn’t resting against the side of it or even near it. She wasn’t even in the room, but Gavril had returned and was sitting back in his chair reading by mage light. Outside it was dark with storm clouds.

“Gwen went out to help with the storm. The Captain thinks he can coach her in how to help keep the ship steady and push us right through it,” Gavril commented when Damon looked around again.

“Gwen is out helping with the storm with a broken arm and one good eye,” Damon drew out the words for Gavril to hear.

“Her control over her power is a lot stronger now. She helped push us away from Faserlaeh while one of the crew set and bandaged her arm.” Gavril set his book aside once again. “Are you hungry? Gwen said that you may hate her for a while because she’s dictating your food options to the kitchen on board the ship here, but you’ll thank her after your first bite.”

“I don’t understand,” Damon tried again. Surely the words Gavril was saying made sense, but he felt like he was missing part of the conversation. Why was Gwen using her power to get them through a storm? What did Godsfyre have to do with moving ships? And why would he hate Gwen for dictating his food?

“Gwen will have to explain herself when she comes back. I’ll go get you something to eat,” Gavril stood and left before Damon could ask any of his questions. 

A few seconds later the door opened and Damon meant to say something to Gavril about how fast he had become but instead he found himself looking at Gwen as she walked right by the bed and went to something on the floor against the wall. He heard the sound of a trunk being opened and watched as she dug around and stood back up with a cloak. As she turned back around and glanced at him, she froze.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said after a moment, her voice soft.

“I’m sure you know how much of a blessing it is to wake up anywhere but there,” he replied. “Why are you here, Gwen? Why would Daric send you?” Damon had a guess off of what Gavril had said the first time he woke, but he wanted to hear from her.

“Daric would have preferred that I stay at the palace and attend parties rather than come here. Keiran heard me out and let me come.” She twisted the cloak in her good hand. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. If you hadn’t been my guard you would have been left alone. I’ll never be able to make it up to you,” she stared at the floor. “I’ll do anything you require of me.”

Damon stared at her. There was no way Gwen could know the charges that were brought against him. She had been on a ship almost to Oleryn when he had been dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night. No one but the men of the Watch that had grabbed him and the High Priest of Solreth knew his charges. It was unlikely anyone had notified Daric or Keiran or anyone else that would have told Gwen the charges simply because they would have come sooner for him. But Gwen still blamed herself for some reason. 

She looked more and more defeated as he watched her and he hated that. He hated that she thought she was in debt to him for all of this. He had done his job. He had protected her. If he really wanted to blame someone he could blame Daric for making him guard her in the first place. He could blame the High Priest of Solreth in Port Tythrenn for his false scriptures and blind hate of Variel. But mostly he could blame himself because he had grown attached to Gwen and wanted to protect her even without the orders and even while being well aware it was an unpopular decision at the time.

Damon shifted his arms to his sides and pushed to lift himself up. His broken ribs gave a twinge of pain as he sat up and the room spun. He felt bone deep aches all over his body but he turned to put his feet on the floor to face her fully.

“Come here,” he ordered. She glanced up at him and stepped forward. He reached for the rolled up cloak under her arm. “I don’t know what they have you doing out there but I hope you know storms at sea are nothing to laugh at. We’re far enough north that I wouldn’t question a bit of snow or ice mixed in either.” He shook out the cloak and maneuvered it around her shoulders. “Be careful. Chances are it will get slippery and I don’t want you hurting your arm any further. I want Ameia to look at that as soon as we arrive in Oleryn,” he found the ties for her cloak and started to do them up.

“As soon as she’s done with you,” Gwen informed him. “I will be fine,” she tried to step back, but he held on to the edges of her cloak, keeping her from going too far.

“Come back when you’re done out there,” he ordered.

“You’re in my room. I think I’ll have to,” she blushed. “Don’t move around unless Gavril helps you. I can keep wrapping your ribs, but I can’t do anything if a broken rib punctures a lung or something else vital.”

“Of course,” he didn’t let go of her cloak and she didn’t make him. He wanted to drink in the sight of her after everything had made him think about her in Faserlaeh.

“I take it Gavril went to find you something to eat? He should have made you eat earlier when you first woke but he was being stubborn because I was asleep,” she rolled her eyes.

“He just wants to make sure you get some rest,” Damon found himself wishing she would have slept longer. There were still dark circles and puffy bags under each eye. She looked thinner and her skin was unhealthily pale again. It was clear she could use several straight days of sleep but he knew she would only sleep a few hours at a time.

“I’ll get rest when I need it,” she retorted. He didn’t have the courage to inform her that passing out against the side of a bed was likely a sign she needed it. “I should explain about the food. You haven’t tasted real food in two months. It might be less of a shock to you than it was to me so you’ll have to let me know, but I have some mild foods for now. The more rich and spiced foods can wait until I know you can stomach them. You’ll start with mild, watered down broth and work your way up to other things.”

“Of course.” He understood her thinking and she seemed to be working off of experience. A bit of relief showed on her face and he realized that she had been worried about how he would handle that news.

“Gwen? I thought the Captain needed you on deck,” Gavril’s voice made Damon release Gwen’s cloak.

“I came to get a cloak and stopped to talk to Damon. I should get back out there though,” she stepped away from Damon and went towards the door. “Don’t let him push himself.”

“What did you allow me along for if not that?” Gavril teased as she left.

“Allowed you?” Damon asked.

“Gwen was determined to come alone,” Gavril replied. “You can eat sitting in the bed or I can help you over to the table.”

It took Damon a moment to register the change in topics but he glanced between the bed he sat on and the table. It would be nice to stay in the very comfortable bed for a long time but it also would be nice to eat at a table like a normal person. He had missed simple things like being able to sit in a chair at a table.

“I’d like to sit at the table,” he admitted. Gavril only nodded and set the tray he carried down on the table and then came back to help Damon to his feet. The room spun and settled as Gavril steadied him. “I’m a little surprised a few broken ribs and a cracked skull was all you got out of that place.”

“Well, they favor the whips more than the batons. I think they don’t want to give a broken leg or arm unless they want to quicken someone’s death,” he lowered himself into the chair Gavril pulled out for him and let out a sigh of relief. It felt great to just sit in a chair.

“Gwen explained about the food?” Gavril asked as he pulled the lid off of the tray he had carried in. There was a bowl of broth and several small rolls.

“It makes sense. Is this how Gwen was sent for?” Damon glanced up at Gavril.

“Not exactly. She hasn’t given me any specifics, but Keiran spoke about them making a mistake with how they fetched her. I think it attributes to some of her lack of trust in the Crown.” Gavril sat down in the chair opposite of him. “Eat up.”

Damon tasted the broth and grimaced as the flavor almost proved to be too strong for him. Gwen had said it would be watered down and it certainly looked watered down, but it didn’t taste that way. He pushed the bread rolls into the bowl and waited, hoping it would soften the rolls and help mellow the flavor of the broth. 

He was halfway through his meal when a new thought hit him. Neither Gwen nor Gavril were healers but they knew about his broken ribs. He knew there was nothing all that visible on the surface other than bruising. Without truly asking him, they shouldn’t have known about his ribs.

“You and Gwen have both mentioned my broken ribs,” he started. “How did you know?”

“Gwen knew. Or rather, she felt it,” Gavril grimaced. Damon wondered if she had pressed down on his ribs and had felt the difference in the broken ones. “Apparently she saw and felt it all in a dream and it traumatized Elden. He couldn’t protect her from it. Ameia cleared her of any true injuries, of course.”

Damon stared at Gavril. So much had been said in the matter of a few seconds that he wasn’t sure where to begin. Gwen had felt his broken ribs in her sleep enough that Ameia had been called to check to see if she was actually injured. And Elden? That was the name of Gwen’s brother, he recalled, but why would he be anywhere near Gwen to be traumatized by not being able to protect her. 

“She felt my broken ribs.” Damon started there. “As in…” he drew out the words hoping for Gavril to fill in the blanks.

“I wasn’t there but apparently it was like she had broken several ribs. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her back,” Gavril sighed. “It still pains her from time to time. You can tell when she sits up too quickly or when she rode to the harbor outside of Oleryn.” Gavril leaned back in his chair.

“You said Elden,” Damon pressed a little further, though his mind was still on Gwen and how she had somehow felt the pain of his broken ribs all the way back at the palace.

“Yes, it’s exactly who you think it is,” Gavril’s face clouded. “Gwen was unhappy he was hired to take your place as her Sergeant. She’s getting more used to the idea, but she didn’t want him to accompany her here and wouldn’t budge on his pleading with her.”

“Was Gwen upset by waking up in bed with me?” Damon asked as he finished his meal.

“She was confused, but I don’t think she was upset. She was mostly worried she had hurt you somehow.” Gavril waited a moment. “I haven’t told her, but there’s a cot tied under that bed to be pulled out for her to sleep on. She’s been sleeping in my bed next door when needed the last couple of days. I can tell her about the cot, or I can conveniently forget about it and let you talk her into sharing the bed a while longer.”

Damon didn’t want to look at Gavril. When he had said farewell to Gwen in Port Tythrenn, Keiran had stepped outside to give him privacy though she was unconscious. It was as if Keiran had thought they were sweethearts. Now Gavril was offering a chance for him to try to talk Gwen into sharing the bed with him. Was he that obvious?

“What would you forgetting about that cot cost me?” Damon asked finally.

“Well, you have to obey her orders for one. And second,” Gavril’s face clouded again. “Just, you’re Daric’s best friend. If you could try and talk him out of this mad notion of courting her, I know she’d appreciate it.”

“He’s talking about courting her or he is courting her?” Damon sat up a little straighter. Before Gwen had left Port Tythrenn, Daric had told Damon about his plans to court her and make her the next Queen of Dovania. Of all the things he didn’t want, Daric courting Gwen was near the top.

“Well, he thinks he’s courting her. She’s been less than receptive to his attempts,” Gavril shook his head. “He gave her some long passionate kiss at the harbor after he handed her this. She didn’t even glance at it until we were on the ship. She opened it, gave it to me, and made me promise to keep it safe until it can go back to Daric.” Gavril pulled a small leather pouch from his pocket and tossed it on the table in front of Damon. “You can look.”

Damon took the pouch and opened it, curious as to what Daric thought to give Gwen. He upended it into his palm and out rolled a ring. Damon stared at the heavy gold wrapped around a black opal. It was a very expensive ring and it was one of Daric’s most prized possessions. A ring passed down through his line from King to Crowned Prince. And now Gwen had it.

“Does she even know the value of this? Not just the monetary value but the actual value?” Damon asked.

“No, she won’t even let me give her the ring back,” Gavril shook his head. “I figured I’d give it to Keiran and have him put it back where it belongs.”

“I’ll take it,” Damon closed his hand around the ring. “It’s supposed to be in a vault protected like all of the other crown jewels.” He shook his head. “How did Gwen respond to the kiss?”

“She enjoyed that kiss about as much as she enjoys having to stand near the practice courts.” Gavril stood. “Let’s get you back to the bed.”

Damon felt the little spark of anxiety that Daric was courting Gwen fade. Gwen hated being by the practice courts and only went by them when she had to. If she wasn’t that receptive to Daric’s kissing or his gift to her, then perhaps nothing he could do would convince Gwen to be his.

“I’d get some more rest while you can. She’s not going to be back in here until the storm is over,” Gavril nodded out the window. Damon turned to look to see how the storm was progressing and saw the sea was churning around them with rather large waves, but he felt none of that. There was rain just beyond the window, but none hitting it. When he could only stare, Gavril helped him to his feet. “I think the Captain and these men will be sad to see Gwen go. This might be the smoothest a storm has ever gone for them.”

“Gwen’s responsible for that?” Damon nodded back towards the window.

“You should talk to her about the time you were away. You two have a lot to catch up on,” Gavril settled him back in the bed. “But for now, sleep. Don’t make me find where she keeps her sleeping draughts, and I’ll put this in your trunk.” He took hold of the leather pouch put it in a trunk against the wall, and then took up his spot in his armchair once more.

Damon stared out the window for a while longer, from his spot on the bed. The Gwen he had left behind had had no control over her power other than to hold it in. Now she was doing something not even a mage could do, she was shielding the ship from rain and smoothing the seas around them. He would certainly have to talk with her like Gavril suggested. He would talk to her about all of it and find some way to broach the subject of Daric as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Damon

It was dark when Gwen returned to the room, but Damon was waiting. Gavril had left some time before claiming he needed to get some sleep of his own. Damon guessed he more likely didn’t want to be around when Gwen returned to give them some privacy.

“You’re still awake?” She asked when she saw him sitting up in the bed.

“Not still,” he informed her. “I slept for another few hours.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re awake. I need to reapply some things and rewrap your ribs now that you’ve moved around a bit,” she started to pull jars and several rolls of bandages from her trunk and brought them over one at a time to the nightstand next to the bed. “Come sit on the edge of the bed like you did earlier.” She slipped off her cloak and sat down next to the spot she indicated he should sit in. “I wish Gavril was still in here. I don’t think I can do this one handed.”

“Gwen?” Damon moved to where she wanted him and touched her good hand. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Your shirt needs to come off.” Her voice was quiet; her head turned away from him. “I need to get at the marks.”

“Alright. Give me a moment.” He reached for the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up over his head. His entire chest and back were wrapped with bandages as well as his abdomen. “Done. Now what?” He waited nearly a minute in silence before he realized she still wouldn’t look at him. “Gavril told me that Daric had the nerve to kiss you farewell. Surely if you can stomach that, you can stomach looking at my disfigured chest for a few moments.” He hoped the tease would get her to at least turn towards him and was rewarded as her head whipped around and her eyes found his.

“You are not disfigured,” she informed him.

“So there’s another reason you won’t look at me?” Damon tried.

“It--” she looked away from him again. “It was different when you unconscious.” Her voice sounded small.

“You can trust me,” Damon assured her. “Remember, I’m here to protect you, not hurt you.”

“I know,” she turned to look at him again. “We have to take these bandages off. The sooner we can get this done the sooner you can cover up again.” Her good hand started to pull at the edge of the bandaging.

“You know how to make a man feel like they are worth looking at,” Damon teased again. He understood that she was uncomfortable with the situation. It made sense that she was more comfortable when he had been unconscious and unable to do anything about her touching his bare chest or the nearness it caused. Now he was awake and it was awkward at best. Now that he had been to Faserlaeh he had learned a bit about looking at the world through her frame of mind. He was sure any uncovered part of a man, be it chest or legs, was enough to make her worry.

“It’s not that,” she started to unwrap the bandages. “I can tell you that Gavril was very interested in looking at you without your shirt on. He seemed to think you were very much worth looking at. And he’s quite picky about his men.”

“Well, I will thank him for the compliment, but my interest is in women,” Damon grinned at her. “Tell me about Daric. I hear he’s been trying to court you.”

The distraction worked as Gwen started talking about Daric’s constant sending of guards to come and get her so he could just see her for a few moments to compliment her. She relaxed and issued instructions to him between talking about how frustrated she was and how annoying Daric was becoming. In no time, she was having him help her wrap up his ribs again.

When she moved to get up from the bed he gripped her hand and stopped her. Slowly he pulled her back to him.

“I slept better with you here today. Is there any way I can convince you to stay here with me tonight?” He kept his eyes on hers. “You know what it was like there. The guards pacing. The short rest periods. You know the constant fear you wouldn’t wake up in time. So you understand why it’s hard for me to sleep well right now. But when you were here with me, I could tell it was over, that I was alright.” He was reaching a bit far but he wanted her to come back and share the bed. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to be assured she was sleeping through the night and that she was somewhere nearby. This way he could do both and he could convince her it was for his sanity.

“I don’t want to accidentally bump your ribs or any of your bruises,” she shook her head.

“You didn’t earlier. Please,” he heard the pleading in his own voice. She waivered a bit and then nodded.

“Alright. But let me dim the lights and get rid of these shoes,” she pulled away from him. 

She was gone from his side all of a minute before she dimmed the mage lights and sat down on the edge of the bed. Damon was ready for her as she tried to lay as far from him as possible. He reached for her and pulled her to him, wrapping her blanket around both of them.

“Just like this,” he whispered as he settled her against his chest.

“But what if I move wrong and hurt you?” She tried.

“You’ll remember I’m here. And I’ll remember you’re here,” he let the hand he had around her stroke against her soft hair. “Please, I need this.”

“Alright, but if I hurt you I’m going over to Gavril’s room,” she threatened.

They were supposed to talk. He wanted to ask more about Daric and how far he had pushed his courtship. He wanted to ask about her power and how she suddenly had control over it. He wanted to ask about the dream she had felt his ribs being broken in. He wanted to ask all of that while he had her in his arms. But instead he readjusted his grip on her.

“I never had the chance to tell you how proud I was of you in Port Tythrenn. You handled Variel very well. You must have handled talking to your brother quite well too.” He felt her bury her face against his chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better. I should have found a way to be up there with you.”

“Daric wouldn’t have allowed it. He wanted all of his Blessed on display like pretty little statues,” she yawned. “I’ll have to do it again when we get home. Daric had to postpone the party until I returned.” She yawned again and then slumped completely against him. A moment later he felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest marking her as asleep.

Damon couldn’t help but smile. Yes, she had added yet another thing he needed to ask about when he could find the right moment. What sort of party was being thrown by Daric that required her enough to postpone it? But she had fallen asleep quite easily against him. He hoped that meant she would have no objections to sharing the bed for the rest of the journey.

Damon wasn’t surprised to wake in the bed alone in the morning, but Gwen hadn’t gone far. She and Gavril were sitting at the table but neither of them were eating. Damon watched as Gavril helped Gwen draw her shirt off over her bound up arm and helped her to replace it with a clean one before he helped settle her arm back in its sling.

“We should have thought of the shield before this happened,” Gavril’s quiet voice carried back to him. “Don’t you have something to take the pain away for a while in your trunk?”

“It’s for Damon,” she replied. “I only brought enough for him.” She shook her head. “I’m alright.”

“Sure, I believe that,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “Keiran is going to have my head for me allowing this to happen to you.”

“You tell him it wouldn’t have been a problem if Captain Richard had just complied with the pardon. Tell him that I was following a god’s instructions. You know Keiran can’t fault you for that,” she snapped. “And if he continues to harass you, send him to me and I’ll set him straight.”

“Relax, Sweet. How was your night with Damon? I take it you slept better,” Gavril reached to tuck her hair back from her face.

“I’m hoping the nightmares are done with now that I know he’s safe,” she admitted. Damon almost sat up to ask her what nightmares she had had about him that kept her awake. He wanted to lay her fears to rest.

“Well, I’m going to suggest Keiran not use his power on you again if we can help it. It was helpful in locating Damon this time, but I don’t like that you haven’t slept decently since Port Tythrenn. I want Paxton to take a look at you when we get home. Perhaps it’s a soul thing he can heal.”

“If you witnessed Nic being taken and could do nothing about it. If you witnessed him being knocked out with a baton and being dragged away. If you witnessed and felt every lash of sixty and witnessed and felt the blow of a baton to the ribs. If you witnessed all of that without being able to do anything about it but sit there and watch and take it, would you think your soul was damaged and in need of healing?” Gwen asked after a long minute.

“No, I’d say you’d have reasonable fear for your sweetheart,” Gavril admitted.

“He’s not my sweetheart,” Gwen shook her head.

“I think he could be, Sweet, if that was what you wanted. Remember what I said about Nic and how I came to realize what I felt for him. I see a lot of those similarities between you and Damon.” Gavril pressed.

Damon held his breath. Every part of him knew it was wrong for him to be in love with her. She had been his charge. His best friend was trying to court her. She depended on him to be stable and trustworthy. There was no way she’d trust him to share the bed peacefully or even help him with his ribs or his other marks if she knew he was actually enjoying it.

“It’s inappropriate,” Gwen sighed. “It’s against the rules he laid out for me from the very first day we met.”

“I don’t think he’d put those rules in place now. You are the only woman I’ve ever seen him want to spend time with since I’ve been at the palace. The only woman he’ll abandon his uniform for,” Gavril teased.

“He did that to protect me,” Gwen retorted. “He takes his duty seriously, Gavril. That’s all.”

“Just remember, Sweet. I want you to love and be loved. That’s all of the happiness I could wish for you.” Gavril sighed. “Have you figured out what you want to say to Daric?”

“I want to tell him to take his kisses and flirts to someone else, but I doubt he’ll listen,” Gwen sighed. “Oh, that hurts,” she doubled over in her chair. 

Damon was out of the bed instantly, forgetting they thought he was asleep still and ignoring the pain in his own body to get to her. When he rounded to her front, he could see she cradled her left arm a little closer. She glanced up at him and grimaced but he ignored the look. His eyes were on her arm.

“Sit,” Gavril pushed him into his abandoned chair and walked over to sit in the arm chair by the bedside.

“I’m okay,” Gwen tried but Damon ignored her as he reached for her arm. “Really it’s just a twinge of pain. It will go away.” She pulled her arm out of his reach. “How are you feeling?”

He wanted to answer honestly. He wanted to tell her he felt worried about her. He wanted to tell her that he felt her arm needed more attention than anything he was dealing with. He wanted to tell her that she was more than his duty. But all he could find to say was, “I’m feeling better with a little food and some decent rest. And whatever is in those balms you put on me made most of the pain go away.” 

“Good. There’s more food,” she pointed to the table where a bowl of plain porridge sat by two plates of biscuits covered in thick gravy. He knew the bowl was intended for him and he thought about teasing her, but he knew she would likely give in to his teasing or feel bad.

“Perfect. Then what?” He grinned at her.

“More balms and bandages. The more often we can apply those balms the better.” She nodded to his wrists. “I managed to erase the marks off of your wrists before you even woke.”

Damon followed her gaze to his wrists and stared. How had he not noticed the lack of scars around his wrists? They were gone. Vanished as if they had never been there. Perhaps the pain was lessening from his bruises and whip marks because the balms Gwen was using were making them vanish altogether. He wouldn’t have anything but memories to mark his time there if that was the case. Looking up at Gwen he realized that was likely her intention.

“And then what?” He pressed. What came after food and balms?

“You’ll get to rest some more. Or I have some paper and a writing kit in my travel desk. You can draft a letter to your family. They were notified of your disappearance.” Damon realized Gavril was staying silent while Gwen did the talking.

“You’ll stay with me?” Damon asked looking to Gwen.

“I’ll be right here,” she assured him.

It took less time to convince Gwen into bed that night and less the next night. He intended to ask questions of her when they were alone but instead he ended up telling her about Terrowyn and about Mira and her betrayal. They talked at lengths about Daric and his destined place as King of Dovania.

Each day he found Gwen allowed him more and more to eat and richer and richer foods. She applied her balms to him three times a day and wrapped his ribs tight each time.

On the last night on board the ship Gwen arranged for them both to have baths so they would be ready for the receiving party at the docks. He allowed Gwen to go first while he went to find a nice place to soak up the sea air. When he returned to the room Gwen helped him to undo his bandages and then left him alone in the room for the first time since he had fully woken.

In the tub, Damon had a chance to actually look over himself. Besides a little bit of lost weight and muscle, he was free of scars, marks, or any visible injuries. Gwen had fixed all but his broken ribs, but even they felt much better. He was sure they had healed at least a little. They had healed more than Gwen’s arm. Of that much he was certain.

When Gwen returned to the room, he stopped her from grabbing her jars of balm to put on him and pulled her towards the bed. She fell into the routine they had established over the course of the last two weeks easily falling in against him before she realized she hadn’t bound his ribs. 

“Just stay a moment,” he told her when she tried to get back up.

“But your ribs,” she tried.

“They can wait.” He felt her try and pull away once more and then settle back against his chest, giving up. “Daric will be there tomorrow.” Damon sighed.

“He will be happy to see you,” she informed him. “My hope is that he’s so happy to see you that he forgets about me for a while.” 

“I doubt he could forget about your lovely self. He’s been trying to figure out how to court you since Port Tythrenn. Thus his terrible decisions when we were trying to figure out how to guard you properly.” He stroked a hand down her good arm.

“I wish he would turn his attention back to the court ladies,” she yawned.

“The man I spoke to while you were bathing said we’d reach port by midday tomorrow. I’m thinking I’d like to sleep in.” Damon waited a moment thinking she’d respond to that but she said nothing. “I’d like it if you stayed with me.”

She didn’t respond again and he looked down to find she was already asleep. He smiled. It hadn’t been his intention that she fall asleep, but now that she was settled he was happy to pull the covers over them and reach over to the nearest mage light to dim it.

When Damon woke in the morning, he was surprised to see Gwen was still there. Still tucked into his arms and still fast asleep.

“I was surprised too,” Gavril’s voice made him look up. “Are you going to tell her she’s more than a duty to you? I’ve been waiting for two weeks.”

“Daric is determined that she’ll be his Queen. He told me back in Port Tythrenn. I can discourage him, but I don’t think I can just steal her from him. He can order me to stand down and stay away from her. I don’t know what I’d do if he ordered that. I think I need him to fail first.” Damon felt his hand tangle in Gwen’s long hair. “Then I can try and talk her around.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Gavril cautioned. “She doesn’t understand that what you are doing now is because you care for her, not because you need to feel like you aren’t in a prison cell.” Gavril stood from his place at the table. “We will be docking in a little over an hour. You two slept late. Make sure you both get to eat and have her pack her trunk before then.” Gavril took his book and left. 

Damon waited until he was sure Gavril was truly gone and then he bent his head down just enough to press his lips to Gwen’s head. It was true. Daric could and would order him away from her if he thought that Damon had any chance of stealing Gwen away. As it was he was already succeeding simply because Daric had no hold on her at all. 

“Gwen?” He shook her shoulders a little. “It’s getting late. You and I need to eat before we get to port.” She shifted against his chest and groaned.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Alright, five more.” He agreed knowing he wouldn’t have her back in his bed that night or likely for a long time, if ever again. He would soak up every moment he could. He also found himself enjoying that she wanted to sleep even just a few minutes longer. He’d be thrilled if she continued to sleep through the night, but he doubted she would get more than a few hours a night after getting back to the palace.

After twenty minutes passed, he woke Gwen again and explained the time constraints. She got up and helped him wrap his ribs and then sat down to eat.

“It looks miserable out there.” Gwen nodded to the window showing it was gray and drizzling outside.

“That’s common for this time of year. We get cold rain until winter comes then it turns to sleet and snow.” Damon sighed. “Dress in layers. I don’t want you getting a chill if they don’t bring a carriage for you.”

“You’ll be in a carriage too if they bring one, unless Ameia is on hand to clear you to ride.” Gwen gave him a smirk when he glared at her. “I’m not fond of carriages either.”

“I guess we will see what they thought to bring for us. At least your black eye has faded down to a shadow of itself.” Damon teased.

After they finished breakfast, Damon helped Gwen to pack up and then helped her with the ties on her coat and cloak. She left her arm tucked inside her coat rather than try to draw it through the coat sleeve. When they were both dressed for the weather and their trunks were secured, Damon and Gwen went outside to stand on the deck to watch their approach into the harbor outside of Oleryn.

Damon was surprised to see the docks were empty of people as they came close enough to make out the port and docks. No horses were waiting, no carriages, no Royal Guards. Damon turned to see Gavril coming out to join them and he frowned as well.

“What happened to the welcoming committee?” He asked.

“Perhaps Daric is more than just as vain as a cat. Perhaps he doesn’t like the rain and delayed them until they could keep him dry,” Gwen muttered startling a laugh out of Gavril and Damon. With the hood of her cloak up and it drawn tight around her, it was hard to tell that she had been injured at all. 

“Daric does not like rain,” Damon confirmed. “So perhaps you have the right of it.”

“My Lady Gwendolyn,” the Captain came to find them at the railing. “We’re struggling to get closer with the wind. Is there a chance you could help us out a little?”

Damon watched as Gwen seemed to straighten a little and her eyes slid closed. Then he felt the winds around them shift. The sails filled with the breeze and they started moving closer to the harbor. 

Damon knew how mages worked. He had visited healers for training injuries and illnesses. He had been to their shops to purchase charms and mage lights. He had even visited the mages market in Port Tythrenn with Daric where mages showed off their wares and their abilities. Each mage he had had the honor of watching work had rituals they needed to do to call upon their power. They had to chant spells, use focuses, and draw magical runes to make their magic work. But the Blessed were different. He had watched Gavril call and control Godsfyre as if it were as simple as breathing. He had watched Ameia call upon her power to heal with the same amount of concentration she likely put into falling asleep at night. And now Gwen was controlling the wind as easily as if she were simply making a wish.

It was strange and wonderful to experience. It marked the Blessed as different. It marked them as stronger than mages. Mages grew tired after workings of that sort of magnitude, but Gwen didn’t falter as her eyes opened and the Captain thanked her and walked away to start issuing orders.

“Perhaps you want to tell me how you suddenly have control of your power?” Damon asked when she stood silent at the rail a few moments longer.

“Perhaps,” she glanced back at him with a grin. “But then you wouldn’t get to wave at the welcoming party.” She pointed out in the distance where riders were starting to crest the hilltop outside of the harbor.

“Don’t think I’m going to forget to ask about this later,” he cautioned her.

“I wouldn’t dream of thinking it,” Gwen assured him. Her good hand found the railing and she held on. He let his hand cover hers for a brief moment before he moved it away and turned to adjusting her cloak to make sure she was well protected from the freezing drizzle that would eventually soak through her cloak and everyone else’s cloaks. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the forty or so Royal Guards starting to line the docks weren’t already cold and miserable. 

They docked and Damon could make out people he recognized. His own men, returned from searching for evidence of where he might have gone, were prominent surrounding who he assumed could only be Daric dressed in a blue cloak. Almost everyone else wore the black cloaks issued by the Royal Guard as standard uniform for this sort of weather. The only other slightly colorful cloak belonged to who he guessed was Ameia, in a wine red cloak. He hoped she would clear him and then hold Gwen captive to heal her arm up.

Once the gangplank was settled Gwen turned to look at Damon.

“Are you ready?”

“More so now than I was when you found me,” he assured her. “I don’t see a carriage. Just the cart for the trunks.”

“Well then you had better hope Ameia clears you,” she teased. “I think I see Nic down there,” Gwen turned to Gavril who grinned at her. “Let’s go get this over with.”

Damon made sure to put Gwen between him and Gavril on the gangplank hoping that if she slipped on the slick wood one of them could catch her. But she didn’t fall and he was seized the moment he stepped onto the dock into a brotherly hug. Daric laughed in his ear as he pounded Damon on the back.

“It’s good to see you back and well!” He exclaimed.

“It’s good to be back,” Damon assured him and returned the embrace. “I trust you’ve stayed out of trouble.”

“He managed to stay out of trouble after Gwen left. He angered her enough to get her to shatter a mirror in his rooms at one point,” Keiran flipped back his hood as he walked over.

“You would think you would learn how to avoid angering her,” Damon teased.

“I was hoping you could help me with that,” Daric lowered his voice. “How was she with all of this?”

“What do you mean?” Damon glanced over to see Gwen talking with Ameia, both of their hoods pulled down enough to keep them from getting too wet. She wasn’t listening nor did she seem aware that she was being discussed.

“I mean with the whole Faserlaeh thing. She was fairly nervous about going. Poor thing had a hard time sleeping,” Daric replied. “She didn’t have to do more than hand over a pardon so I hope she realized she was being silly.”

Damon didn’t let his thoughts show. Gwen had made it sound like Daric hadn’t wanted her to go. He was sure Gwen had been a wreck thinking about returning to Faserlaeh for him. He was sure she was worried about what she would have to face. But she hadn’t been unreasonable about her worries. She had proven her worries to be fairly correct.

“I think you should talk to Gavril about it,” Damon turned to look at Gwen. “I suppose you didn’t think to bring a carriage.”

“Are you unable to ride?” Daric asked.

“Gwen would prefer I didn’t until my ribs are seen to. But I was thinking she doesn’t need to be in this cold wet any longer than necessary,” he nodded towards Gwen.

“Ameia is here to see to you,” Keiran explained.

“She should see to Gwen too,” Damon turned to look at the younger prince and smiled at him.

“She can see to both of you on the road. I’d like to get back to the palace as soon as possible,” Daric nodded to the three horses that were brought saddled but didn’t hold riders. One of the Royal Guard brought one of the horses towards Gwen and held it steady for her. She looked up at the saddle and then around. “What is she doing?” Daric asked.

“She can’t mount up,” Damon realized.

“I’ll get her,” Gavril announced. “Don’t hurt yourself mounting up either. Gwen will have your head.” Damon watched as Gavril approached Gwen and lifted her easily by the hips to set her on the saddle.

“Explain why she can’t mount up,” Keiran was staring at Gwen as if he could find the answer by watching her.

“A guard at Faserlaeh decided to break her arm. You’ll have to ask Gavril for the official report. I’m not sure Gwen is ready to talk about it.” Damon walked towards his horse. Someone, he assumed his men, had thought to bring his own personal mount. It was a comfort.

When he was mounted, he received a few pats on the arm or leg from his men in their own greeting and then he took his place next to Daric when he mounted up. He knew it was where he belonged but he felt his eyes drawn back further in the line where Gwen rode. She was surrounded by her own squad with one man riding at her side. He pulled the hood of his cloak back and Damon could make out the man he recognized to be Elden Wood. Gwen’s brother. Elden reached across the distance to brush the shadow of a black eye Gwen still sported and then where her arm was bound under her cloak and coat. 

All at once, Damon hated his duties to Daric. He hated that he would have to let Daric have a chance at Gwen and he hated that he had to hand her care over to Elden. But he was Daric’s loyal subject and best friend and there was nothing he could do about any of it.


End file.
